The Fourth Estate
by OliveOilMed
Summary: After The Quibbler is banned from the school, a group of Ravenclaws answer by publishing their own secret newspaper, The Fourth Estate and they scatter copies all about the school. If any of them are caught, the worst wrath possible will fall on them.
1. Chapter 1 Compose

**Author's Note:** This story was written for the organization Project Censored. Their goal is to provide education oppurtunities to journalism students and the public about they various forms of censorship that exist in the world. If you want more information about their mission or would like to, you can look them up.

I actually got the idea for this story when I started thinking about a conversation I had with my two younger cousins, who are just as big of Harry Potter fans as I am. We all decided if we ever went to Hogwarts, we would all be Ravenclaws together. When OOTP came out, they were both upset that there was only one girl from Ravenclaw in Dumbledore's Army, so, of course, I had to say that was because the Ravenclaw girls were off doing something just as dangerous.

And this is what I believe they were doing during that time.

* * *

**Chapter 1  
Compose**

With natural light hazing alongside the mountains and glinting off the bronzed stars that speckled across the ceiling, the Ravenclaw common room was a lovely gathering place for all the members of the house. Nearly every night, while the students of all years would be doing their homework and assigned reading, the entire room would launch off long debates on a dozen different topics, usually starting because of the simplest off-hand comment.

Through the thousand years that the noble house of Ravenclaw had existed, the students had gathered together, like the old Roman assemblies, and discuss topics of both ancient history and current events.

In the more recent days, however, current events had been the topic of choice night after night. The change had not been out of anyone's desire to lead a discussion; rather, a response to the chaos and horror that people living in the midsts of an upheaval of any kind would have felt.

"Now do you believe we are becoming a police state?"

For the whole school year, these topics had echoed through the Ravenclaw common room. They had ranged from the constant bickering within the Ministry, the gripping paranoia of those who were supposed to be making informed decisions for the school that was becoming harder and harder to ignore, and, what was quickly becoming the most personal for all the Hogwarts students, the new faculty member quickly rising through the ranks: Dolores Umbridge.

The woman had started out as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, the latest in a long line of many, and someone whom most of the Ravenclaws had hated from the very beginning. It did not take a very high intellect to see that the Hogwarts students were getting a subpar education (as much as that statement seemed to contradict itself). There were no practical applications of Defensive magic, and the so-called 'theory-based' classes had nothing to do with the subject they spoke of. Even the older students said so.

As though Umbridge weren't horrid enough when she was just a lowly teacher, one morning the students awoke to learn the Ministry had named her the 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor'. No one had any clue as to what it meant, until all the new rules began to be posted on the common room bulletins. Bit by bit, personal freedoms were chipped away and everyone began to feel as though they were being watched at all hours of the day. The students and the teachers both complained (in secret, of course), but there was nearly nothing they could do about it— not with the Ministry and all those who could buy their way into power pulling the strings and the Prophet praising their every action.

"The thing is such an idiotic rag," one of the seven-year prefects complained. "Why would the Ministry even care what stories they were printing?"

She was talking, of course, about _The Quibbler_, the magazine Loony Lovegood's father edited. And the prefect did nothing to quiet her comments for the straggly-haired blonde, who was laying upside down on one of the common room sofas.

Loony was extremely proud of her father and the work he did on _The Quibber_. Every time a new issue came out, she would slip a copy under each dormitory door and make sure there were at least three copies in the common room. The stories were always ridiculous (_Wizardgamot Judge Replaced by Centaur During Sick Leave, Muggle Government Possesses Division Devoted to Watching Wizarding World_), but everyone had read it at least once. It was great reading on those nights when a student couldn't fall asleep, but didn't want to open any of their textbooks for fear of stimulating their minds further, wind them up too much.

Just now, though, even _The Quibber_ was starting to take an interest in current politics. Still stories too outlandish to be believed, but it was the only piece of media in wizarding Britain that didn't just blindly praise the Ministry.

But then, one morning, a new notice appeared on the common room bulletin that both baffled and fascinated the Ravenclaw students at the same time.

**BY ORDER OF  
The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts **

Any student found in possession of the magazine _The Quibber_ will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with  
Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven

Signed:  
_Dolores Jane Umbridge_  
High Inquisitor

"Up until now, any other new regulation could have been brushed off, but the foundation of a free society is a free press," preached Mandy Brocklehurst. "The fact that we were barred from reading anything, even when Umbridge assigned that ridiculous lesson plan, should have been a warning sign!"

The other Ravenclaws regaled the fifth-year with a collective look of skepticism. Mandy liked to use big words and long-winded speeches to make herself sound more intelligent. It was an insecurity most Ravenclaws possessed, but it was especially prevalent in Mandy's case.

What was most pestering, though, was that Mandy was right. Ever since Umbridge had shown up, the entire school had had an uneasy feeling to it. It had started with a class where they weren't allowed to learn anything (a severe sin in the eyes of any member of Ravenclaw), but as more time passed, even though no one dared say anything against the system, people were beginning to notice that the school was becoming a Fascist state.

"It was easy to see this coming," another seventh-year remarked in a relaxed sort of way. "We have one newspaper that is universally respected in the country, and they are completely in the Ministry's pocket. It's only natural that they would try to silence even the smallest media source that disagrees with them."

"And it's _The Quibber_ for Merlin's sake!" piped Lisa Turpin, suddenly glancing around the room as though looking for something. "Does anyone here still have a copy?"

Every set of eyes in the room raced around looking for anyone who might answer the question. There were always so many copies of the insane magazine floating around the Ravenclaw dormitories. It was hard to believe that they wouldn't be able to find at least one copy of whatever issue it was that had set Umbridge off. A logical response would have been to go straight to Luna Lovegood, but most members were too intimidated by the strange girl to even say hello to her. No one was actually going to go up to her and ask her a favor.

Eventually, a little second-year boy, Stewart Ackerly, pushed himself up off the sofa and sprinted up one of the tower staircases. No one carried on with any type of debate and discussion while he was gone. Instead, the entire common room listened for every little bump and muttering that came from the upstairs.

The response was collective as soon as the little boy clabbered back down the stairway. "It was wedged part-way underneath a trunk," he told her. "It has this month's date on it. It has to be the one!"

Stewart took a new place of honor between Lisa Turpin and another fifth-year girl, Morag MacDogal. The girls peered over Stewart's shoulders for a better look and all the other pieces of furniture were abandoned as the room of Ravenclaws gathered around the tattered magazine.

"Harry Potter Speaks Out at Last," Stewart read aloud the featured story on the front cover. "The truth about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the night I saw him return."

"That's not news!" piped a stiff-sitting fourth-year girl. "Potter's been blathering on about that since last spring!"

Most of the students glared a stern look at the girl for her callous words, but none of them could very well say she was a liar. There was not a person in the school who had not heard Harry Potter's ranting that You-Know-Who had killed Cedric Diggory, and that the Dark wizard had returned from the grave, and now he was going to kill them all. You had to be living even more so under a rock not to notice that the Ministry was doing everything possible to discredit Potter's statements and keep everyone believing the party line: everything was fine, everything was perfect, and anyone who couldn't see that was crazy and should not be believed.

"Well, Stewart, open it!" Morag prompted, shaking his left shoulder. "Read more to us!"

"We can't do that!" a Chinese boy in his third-year stopped him. "You all read the notice that Umbridge posted. We'll be expelled!"

"We'll be expelled if she knows we keep any copies in our dormitory," Lisa snapped back. "We will get in no less trouble if we say we didn't read it. So c'mon, Stewart! Read us the story!"

The older girl was more insistent in her argument, so she was the one that Stewart eventually obeyed. Flipping into the middle of the magazine, Stewart found the story, complete with interviews, and he began reading the story to the rest of his housemates. Plenty of people objected and shifted nervously, but no one left the room or tried to stop the little boy.

Stewart read the article, paragraph after paragraph, and when he was finally done, no one in the house of Ravenclaw had anything to say. Not for ages and ages.

Finally, Lisa snatched the magazine from Stewart's hands and held it up close to her face, as though she didn't believe the words that had just been read to her. "That's it?" she gaped. "This is the singular piece of media that could bring down the entire Ministry if it fell into student hands?"

Morag took the magazine from Lisa. "It's just the same psychotic ramblings they publish in every issue."

There was no doubt that Luna Lovegood could have heard Morag perfectly, but the words did not seem to affect her. She still lay relaxed on the sofa she had all to herself, chewing her way lazily through her bag of Licorice Wands. From the dreamy expression in the girl's eyes, it wasn't entirely clear if she even knew she was in the common room.

"Makes a person wonder _why_ exactly they banned the thing from the school if they keep insisting it's all such nonsense," Morag finished.

"Don't tell me that you're beginning to believe Potter's rambling," the seventh-year boy said, raising an eyebrow and rolling his eyes.

"You don't think we have the right to decide for ourselves if whether or not it is nonsense?" Lisa asked. "The Ministry is already so powerful, able to send their message any way they want. Do they really need to silence the one magazine that most people wouldn't believe on general principle anyway?"

"It _is_ odd, you know," Mandy spoke up, twisting a strand of mousy-brown hair around her index finger. "It's outright paranoia. They devote so much effort into discrediting Potter and Dumbledore. The Inquisitorial Squad, all these new rules that Umbridge has come up with—it's suspicious. It makes them look like they have something to hide."

A few in the circle of students rolled their eyes and snorted. Some of them whispered about how they should consider who was _really_ paranoid in this discussion. But a good number of the Ravenclaws didn't say anything, not even to themselves. Instead, they shifted their eyes down to the deep blue carpet, and their lips were twitching as though they couldn't quite decide how to feel. At any rate, the discussion was dead and there was nothing that could be done to revive it.

Eventually, after spending far too much time in the uncomfortable silence, the students started to go up to their bedrooms, one by one. No one spoke or chatted with one another as they left, and the lack of movement and sound from within the tower was disturbing. It was unnatural for a place that was home to so many teenagers.

But thoughts are not silent. Even though no one spoke of the discussion that had shaken the Ravenclaw common room, it was certain that the discussion was being mulled over in the minds of every student in the dormitory until they finally lost consciousness. And it stayed with a number of them still while they were in the grips of sleep.


	2. Chapter 2 Editorial

**Chapter 2  
Editorial**

Defense Against the Dark Arts with Ravenclaw went more or less the same way in every class. With O.W.L.s coming up, this class was the chief worry of nearly every fifth-year in the school. Students studying preparation texts for the exam would spend the class period bringing up examples of questions or practical components that could possibly be on the test and drill Professor Umbridge on how she planned to prepare them with her _revolutionary_ teaching style. It had started out of true desire to be ready for the exam, but now the fifth-year Ravenclaws had made it into a game. They would take turns asking question after question, watching Professor Umbridge stutter and stammer her way through the answers, the longer the better. The successfulness of a day was measured by how little time Umbridge had to 'teach' the nonsense she spewed at them.

Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein were especially aggressive on this particular day (they had been taking this game very seriously as of late), but it still wasn't doing enough to keep the class from 'learning'. Namely because none of the Ravenclaw girls aside from Padma—Lisa, Morag, and Mandy—were playing today. Not that it really mattered, but their minds were elsewhere: the discussion that had occurred in the common room last night…and the copy of the Quibbler that was still there.

Normally, nightly discussions wisped through the common room like smoke; substantial while still fresh, but then hazy as they drifted out the window, never to be seen again. But last night's was one that still lingered.

Bored, Lisa pulled her composition book from her book bag and began to doodle on a fresh page of paper. Morag flicked her quill left and right, watching the feathered tip flutter between her fingers. Eventually, Lisa's scribbles led to actual words; observations and thoughts flowing naturally.

**The Question Game**  
**_How to Keep Umbridge from Spewing her Garbage_**

Lisa blinked her eyes rapidly, as though she could not believe what had just come from the tip of her quill. But Lisa was curious and Umbridge wasn't paying attention to her. She put her quill back to the paper and continued to write.

_Everyone in this school has had to suffer through Dolores Umbridge's lesson plans for months now. It bores into the mind and can be enough to drive a person mad. All they students have their own coping strategies for dealing with these dreaded times of the week, although we never get to hear what these methods are because all the different years and different houses rarely speak to one another, mainly through a lack of opportunity to do so. But the fifth-year Ravenclaws have a game they like to play through Defense Against the Dark Arts that helps them to keep their sanity. It is called the Question Game._

The premise of the Question Game is very simple. The trick is to keep Umbridge occupied by taking turns asking questions, one after another, to keep her from actually getting to her lesson plan. Umbridge hasn't figured out this game we play yet, but all the same, there is a set of rules in place to make sure it stays that way.

To start with, you need to keep your questions at least somewhat on topic with the subject of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Umbridge has not discovered how this game is played, but we have no reason to assume she is an idiot

_Wow!_ That last sentence alone would be more than enough to get her expelled.

_Second, no person should ask too many questions in a row. If a single students becomes the class know-it-all, Umbridge will remember their face and, at best, get annoyed and never call on them, or, at worst, she will begin to notice that a game is being played and the whole system comes crashing down. At the same time, the pattern should not become too obvious, or the same problems apply._

It is a very simple, yet magnificent game we play. It is one that anyone can play, as long as the rules are followed. Remember them well, and you will not have to suffer through anymore of the nonsense that Umbridge has been spouting.

Lisa was sure she could still write more, but she held her quill off to the side so she could examine her own words. She still wasn't quite sure what to make of this piece. It was certainly amusing, even to her, though she couldn't show any emotion for risk of calling attention to herself. She was sure it would be entertaining to others as well. Besides, she knew the words rang true and that if Umbridge read even one sentence of this while she was walking past Lisa's desk, Lisa would likely be expelled. The feeling gave her a rush, and she liked it.

Suddenly, on an impulse, Lisa tugged at Morag's shoulder to get her attention. "Here," she whispered, shifting the page across the tabletop. "Read this."

Morag didn't look down right away, but Professor Umbridge was looking right at their section of the room. However, as soon as the woman turned her attention to Padma Patil, who had been whispering to Terry Boot during the lecture, Morag took the opportunity and ran with it. She snatched the paper right out from underneath Lisa's hand and allowed herself to become completely absorbed in it. Lisa could see her tablemate's eyes shifting back and forth at lightning speed, as though she were trying to take in the entire piece as fast as she could before Umbridge could notice anything was amiss.

It seemed like a matter of seconds before Morag swiped the paper back across the table and shifted her eyes back up to Umbridge before the woman even saw something was off. Morag didn't say anything about what she had just read, but while she still had the chance, she offered Lisa a soft smile and the tiniest nod, letting the girl know she approved and agreed.

Satisfied with the response, Lisa took up her quill once again to add to her writings. The whole time she wrote, Lisa never once looked down at her paper. Instead, she kept her eyes focused on Umbridge, watching for any sign that the woman was paying too much attention to Lisa and her quill. Lisa knew her handwriting would be an awful mess, but she could always rewrite it when she was alone in her bedroom. A person could always read their own handwriting, no matter how bad it was.

* * *

Later that night, all the Ravenclaws had retreated up to their dormitories early. There had been none of their lively debates; the students did their night's studying without speaking and then raced up to hide in their rooms as soon as they possibly could. Nobody could remember a time when this had ever happened before and nobody liked it. But certainly no one was going to say anything about it.

In the fifth-year girls' dormitory, Lisa and Morag were all by themselves. Morag had three different textbooks open to readings that she was working her way through. She was going to ruin her eyes from the poor light in the dormitory, but like so many of the other Ravenclaws, she did not want to study in the common room and listen to the dead silence.

Of course, Lisa was also more than likely going to go blind from the work she was doing in the dimly-lit dormitory. A carefully balanced bottle of ink rested on a stack of textbooks, and her composition book was open to a page covered in her messy script. Off to the side, a crisp piece of parchment lay with the ink still drying, covered in the quill's writing from Defense Against the Dark Arts.

But that was not all. Now Lisa was working her way down a brand new piece of parchment, with a brand new essay.

_As Hogwarts students well into the school year, we do not need anyone to tell us we have been receiving an inadequate education in Defense Against the Dark Arts. In fact, quite the opposite word can be used instead of education. When the students haven't been needlessly taking up space in their heads with the useless fluff in our texts, we spend our time having Ministry propaganda drilled into our skulls. It is no way to learn, and it is no way to live._

Even the physically blind have the ability to make the connections between what is happening in our immediate lives as students and the trickle-down effect coming from Ministry policies. Our leaders are scared, from a danger that may or may not be there, but this seems to make little difference to those at Hogwarts. It is our lives that are being thrown into chaos by this paranoia, our freedoms that have been stripped, and we, who remain locked away, far from the political environment, who are the only ones who do not seem to have a voice in this manner.

This must change!

Lisa allowed her quill to drop to the messy first-draft of her composition, creating a giant blotch in the center of her composition book. Rubbing her sore wrist, she could actually feel her bones clicking against one another. While the ink was drying, Lisa took up her first essay and stared up and down over the words once again. And once again, her heart began that wonderful racing, the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end, and every part of her felt electrified.

"Morag!" Lisa shouted, suddenly snatching up the parchment from her first essay. "I finished it!"

Startled, Morag looked up at the interruption of the quiet. "Finished what?"

"The piece I was working on in Defense Against the Dark Arts," Lisa explained, rushing over and taking a seat on her roommate's bed. "Here! Read!"

Morag spent a long while first staring at Lisa with a confused look on her face before finally remembering. She shifted the mess from her books further down the bed to create more room for Lisa. Finally, though, she took the piece of parchment from her roommate's hand and held it up to read herself. While Lisa glanced down at her hands, she saw that her fingertips were smudged with ink. It must have been still too early to pick up the parchment, but Lisa didn't care. As soon as she was certain Morag was actually reading remainder of the essay, she raced back to her own bed and snatched up the other parchment.

"I wrote another one too!" she exclaimed, rushing back to Morag's bed. "Here, take a look!"

Morag looked up from the first essay, which she had just finished reading. An amused smile was spreading across her face, and a few airy giggles escaped on her breath as she took the second piece of parchment from Lisa. But as her eyes traced down this paper, her expression became a lot more somber. Lisa had to admit that composition was a much more serious one, more of a rant than anything else. It had been a great deal of fun to write, but now she was unsure of how many people would actually find such a piece amusing to read, much less read it willingly.

After what seemed like ages, Morag finally set the parchment down and looked up to meet Lisa's eyes.

Morag's expression was an unsure one this time. "They were good and all, Lisa, but what do you plan to do with them? It certainly doesn't look like either of these are school assignments, and Umbridge catches you with them, you'll be skinned alive!"

"I'm not worried about that," Lisa said, taking the piece of parchment back. "If I were, I wouldn't have written them in the first place."

"What is it that you're worried about?"

Both girls looked up to see Mandy Brocklehurst standing in the doorway of their room. Neither of them had seen her all night. They hadn't even bothered themselves with thinking where she might be.

Lisa held the parchment close to her chest as though it were an infant. She wasn't quite sure she really wanted to show either of her essays to Mandy. The third Ravenclaw girl was a nervous sort, working herself into giant fits over the smallest of things. Last night, reading _The Quibbler_ had gone fairly well, considering. But Lisa wasn't sure of how Mandy would react to seeing such a deliberate act of rebellion.

"Well, c'mon," Mandy pressed, taking the last bit of available space on Morag's bed. "What is it?"

Morag sat between the two girls, shifting her eyes left and right, waiting for something to happen. Eventually, she must have gotten tired of waiting. She snatched the paper out of Lisa's hands and handed it over to Mandy. Lisa squirmed as Mandy took the piece of parchment and began reading over Lisa's words. Mandy's eyes gradually grew larger and larger as she began reading over Lisa's words and her lips parted, as though she couldn't get enough air otherwise. Lisa sucked in a deep breath of air and fought to suppress a groan. No matter how this played out, she was certain she wasn't going to like it.

Mandy peered up over the parchment and was near shaking when she met eyes with the other girls. "Oh, Merlin…"

Lisa cringed back. She was worried what Mandy might do now that she had been confronted with such damning pieces of writing. Now Mandy was beginning to shake even harder. "Oh, Merlin!"

"Stop saying that!" Lisa pleaded. At this point, she was starting to become more nervous than Mandy could have possibly been.

Mandy stood up and began pacing, her breathing becoming more ragged. The whole time, though, she continued to hold the parchment directly in front of her face.

"This…is…GOOD!"

Lisa and Morag both blinked back their surprise. Mandy was still pacing the room and breathing hard like an animal, but for once, it wasn't out of nerves or fear. She was excited, _happy_-excited.

"Oh, Merlin! You just know this is what everyone in the school is thinking, what they have been thinking for months! But of course, no one will actually say it because they're all so afraid of the Ministry and that damned quill! But, Lisa, _you_ actually said it! You wrote it all down and it was perfect! Perfect, perfect, perfect!"

Lisa shifted from side to side, afraid of what reaction she would get to any response she gave. "Um…thank you." Then, she reached down and held up the first story she had written earlier in Defense Against the Dark Arts. "I have another one here too."

Without asking for permission, Mandy snatched the story out of Lisa's hand and held it up to read. Once again, Mandy began her frantic pacing and reading that disturbed Lisa and Morag so. It was almost as though the girl were manic, the way she was behaving.

"Wonderful!" Mandy shouted suddenly, racing back to the bedside. "This one is great too!"

There was only a small bit of space on Morag's bed, but still, Mandy took it.

"More people should read these!" Mandy dropped the stories onto the covers. "Both of them!"

Morag dropped her hands into her lap and began to chew on her bottom lip. "How exactly would we do that? Are we going to take the parchment and run around the school showing it to anyone who will sit still long enough?"

"How long will it take before Umbridge notices _that_?" Lisa piped.

"Well, there are duplication spells," Mandy answered. "We could make copies of the story. Enough for the whole school to read!"

Lisa remained on her perch atop Morag's bed, still holding herself in a painful state of awareness. But Mandy's words were starting to cause the little wheels to turn inside Lisa's head. When she had first written her stories, she hadn't really thought about how many people she would allow to read them. She knew she wasn't afraid of Umbridge finding out when it was just her and her quill. The rush had been much too great. But she couldn't quite decide her feelings on this matter.

"And how long do you think it would take for Umbridge to notice _that_?" Morag quipped. "Hundreds and hundreds of papers with Lisa's name on it?"

"No one would have to know it was Lisa," Mandy said in a sly manner that her roommates hadn't known she was capable of.

"It doesn't really seem fair, though," Lisa commented. "If we get caught, you will probably just get a slap on the wrist, but since I actually wrote the story, I'll be the one who gets in the most trouble."

"Alright," Mandy replied, "so we'll write stories too."

Morag's ears perked. "We? Who's we?"

"Well, I'm going to write a story," Mandy explained, "and so will you. Won't you, Morag?"

Morag began chewing on her bottom lip once again. "I don't know. Do you know how much trouble we'll all get in if anyone ever finds out it was us?"

"That's the whole point!" Mandy said. "It's the rush of it all. I feel it right now, and I haven't even done anything yet! Lisa, you can't tell me you didn't feel it when you were writing these, can't you?"

Even if Lisa wanted to lie about it, there was no way she could have on such a sudden request. She nodded. And then the both of them turned their eyes on Morag. She never quite said yes in any recognizable way, but both girls could tell just by the look in her eyes that Morag was in on whatever was to come as well.

Lisa pushed herself up off Morag's bed and made her way to her trunk. She extracted two pieces of fresh parchment before returning to the other two girls. She didn't take her previous seat, but did drop the pieces of parchment in the laps of the Ravenclaw girls.

"You better get started, then," Lisa told them. "I'm going off to look for more lanterns. We'll need them."


	3. Chapter 3 Staff

**Chapter 3  
Staff**

"_No laws were ever passed on the use of the Quickslitter Quill, though by the early nineteenth century, much of Europe had come to the conclusion that the use of such a tool on students was unethical,_" Lisa read aloud, her voice echoing off the tiles of the bathroom. "_So even though there are currently no legal ramifications for Dolores Umbridge's favorite form of discipline, the philosophical and ethical ramifications of it are too many to count._"

As soon as she reached the last word, Lisa glanced over the top of the parchment to see Mandy beaming and anxious to hear the response.

Lisa's honest response was that she couldn't believe it. What she had just read was…good: well-researched and entertaining. Lisa had no idea where Mandy had been able to find her information (though Mandy reminded her that a person could find just about anything in the Hogwarts library if they knew where to look), but it was something that seemed like it could honestly be believed. It was just like something that might have been printed in a newspaper. Lisa's own compositions had really been little more than some musings and her own rantings.

Off to the side rested Morag's essay, which had been no less exquisite. She had actually managed to look up Umbridge's old school records and had written an entire exposé on her Hogwarts years. It had just a touch of sleaze to it, but after everything that had been printed in the _Prophet_, Lisa doubted anyone else who read it would even be able to pick up on it.

Not that Lisa knew _how_ she was going to get anyone else to read it. Right now, they were just three girls pacing around the bathroom jumping at small noises that might have meant someone was about to intrude.

"It's good," she told Mandy finally. "It's really, _really_ good!"

Mandy let out a high-pitched squeal, and the other two girls hushed to silence her. All Ravenclaws had giant egos, so they would have to be very careful about just how much praise they gave to one another.

"Yours was good too, Morag," Lisa moved on to tell the other girl. "Sleazy, but in a good way."

Morag smiled slyly. "I can't think of anyone more deserving."

"Alright then," Mandy said, still bouncing. "Do you have any ideas?"

"Ideas about what?" Lisa asked as she began washing the smudged ink off her hands.

"How we're going to get these stories all around the school."

"Well, we all agree that these stories are good, and we certainly have a fair amount of them now," Mandy explained further. "How do we go about print them and passing them out?"

Morag put her hands on her hips and offered a cynical look. "What do you think, Mandy? That we're writing a newspaper?"

"Well, why not?"

"Excuse me?" Morag asked.

Mandy repeated herself, "Why not turn these things into a newspaper?"

Even Lisa was taken aback by this new turn in the plan. So far, this had just been a small collection of essays that they were possibly going to show to other students when no one was looking. But mass production of writings like these, and who knows how many of them? Lisa didn't even know where they would begin.

Morag seemed to share these exact same feelings. "And just how are wesupposed to go about doing that?"

"It wouldn't be too terribly difficult," Many assured them. "We would need to type them out, and there are typewriters that Professor Burbage has in her classroom. She collects all kinds of Muggle contraptions. Then we just have to fit them to a layout. After that, it's just a matter of getting the copies to paper. You see? Not nearly as it seems."

"How do you know so much about newspapers anyway?" Lisa asked.

"My older brother is studying journalism at Muggle university," Mandy told them.

"Your brother?" Morag raised one of her eyebrows. "The Squib?"

Mandy snapped her head around fast and flashed a glare while Lisa cringed and groaned. Mandy was a half-blood with a Muggle father. The Brocklehursts had only two children and their first, Mandy's brother, had been born without magic. The kinder students at the school never breathed a word of him (Lisa didn't even know what his name was), but it was something a few of the more proud pureblood students used to torment her. Lisa couldn't believe Morag had said such a thing.

"He doesn't have magic, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know what he is talking about when it comes to the newspaper industry!" Mandy snapped. "He studies it all day, every day. And he certainly knows a lot more about it than any of us do!"

Mandy went on with even more excited babblings. "His school even has an old printing press and lots of access to paper. If I sent him the original copy, I just know he would be more than willing to make copies of them and send them to us by owl. Don't you see? We could really make this work!"

But Lisa was not entirely won over by the idea, no matter how exciting it was beginning to sound. And clearly, neither was Morag.

"There is no way we would be able to publish a newspaper with just the three of us, though," Morag countered. "Even if you brother _were_ willing to do the print for us, it would still be entirely our responsibility to write the stories, type them out, get pictures—"

"Pictures! That would be wonderful!" Mandy interrupted. "Do either of you have a camera?"

Instead of answering, Morag listed off the rest of the work that would need to be done in order for this too work. "Then, we would have to somehow paste it all together without anyone seeing the process, and leave who knows how many copies all around the school. Can you imagine the impossible work load?"

Mandy didn't seem to think this was a problem, however. "So we'll just get more people to help us."

Morag snorted. "Like who?"

"What about the cute little second-year that sat between the two of you the night while we were all reading _The Quibbler_?" Mandy proposed. "He looked as though he could be useful enough."

"Stewart Ackerly?" Lisa asked. "I don't even really know him."

"But he likes you enough to do what you two say," Mandy reminded them. "If we could make it sound exciting enough to get him, we could get him to join in on the project. Not to mention he looks up to you, Lisa. I could tell."

Lisa wasn't really sure that it was that Stewart respected him, or that he still didn't know who the fifth-year prefects were, but she also couldn't help but remember how easy it had been to get the boy to do what she asked. He would certainly be a lot easier to convince than a lot of other people in their house.

"Alright," Lisa finally agreed. "Let's go find him and ask him for ourselves."

* * *

The Hogwarts library was a large, expansive space, for good reason. On cold, wet, windy, and generally miserable afternoons, even students who had not been seen in the library for months could be found there. Even if they didn't spend the time studying, staying there was just another moment they wouldn't have to spend in the damp outside. Lisa, Morag, and Mandy understood that very well, now that they were rushing through the library entrance, their soaked school robes still clinging to their limbs.

Even though they hadn't checked the common room, as a Ravenclaw, as insulting as it might have seemed, it was a fair bet that Stewart Ackerly could be found in the school library on such an afternoon as this. Still, finding him would be no easy task. All the bodies studying were dressed in the same identical black robes, and from behind, all of the boys (and even a few of the girls) looked as though they could be Stewart Ackerly.

At a quick clip, the girls weaved their ways in and out of the series of shelves, meeting at their respective ends. They worked their ways through the Astronomy section, then Charms, Herbology, Potions; through more books than Lisa was certain that the three of them would have ever read in their Hogwarts careers. Lisa began to wonder how a second-year could have managed to work his way so deep into the stacks.

But when Lisa started her way through a new column of shelves, just at the beginning of a series of empty shelves that had once contained books on combat spells, a small black-robed figure sat staring up at the ceiling: Stewart Ackerly. The younger boy didn't seem to be doing anything in particular, but with the shelves surrounding him completely devoid of books, it wasn't very hard to understand.

Mandy, Morag!" Lisa shouted over her shoulder. "Over here, I found him."

"Stewart?" Lisa called over to get his attention. "Stewart, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Hello, Stewart." Lisa made her way over to the second-year boy. "Remember me? I'm Lisa Turpin."

Stewart offered a small nod. "I sat next to you the night we all read _The_…" he wouldn't actually say the name of the forbidden magazine, but it didn't matter. Lisa knew exactly what he meant.

"That's right," Lisa answered, just in time for her roommates to find them. Each of them out of breath from a combination quick-paced walking and breathing more dust than oxygen, Mandy and Morag collapsed to the floor beside the other two Ravenclaws.

"What do you want?" Stewart asked, finally becoming curious.

Finally, Mandy forced herself into a somewhat upright position, enough so that she could reach into her book bag and extract the same stack of parchments that the three girls had been obsessing over. "Take a look at these."

Somewhat warily, Stewart took the papers for himself and began flipping through them. The girls watched his expression carefully to see his exact reactions. For the most part, he appeared curious, slightly terrified, and just a little bit excited.

"What is all this?" Stewart finally asked them, his voice shaking slightly.

"They're stories," Mandy told him, her voice taking on the same pitch it took whenever they talked about the plans they had been making for these writings. "Lisa wrote the first couple, but then Morag and I began writing too. We want to get a bunch of them printed all together so we can hand them out to the student body."

"You mean like a newspaper?"

"Exactly!" Mandy exclaimed, not even noticing the slight apprehension Lisa and Morag felt towards the term.

Stewart stared around the circle of older girls, appearing completely dumbfounded. Granted, all this information was a lot to take in. Finally, he managed to ask the three, "So why are you telling me all this?"

Again, Mandy took it upon herself to explain. "You don't honestly think that it's possible to publish a newspaper with only three people working on it, do you? Of course it's not! That's why we're going to need help to make this happen. We need to find more people to help us."

Finally, Stewart was beginning to understand what had prompted this visit from the fifth-year girls. "You want _me_ to help you publish this paper?"

"That's right," Lisa finally took her turn to speak.

The small expression of terror and excitement became a little more prevalent as Stewart look back down at the parchments in his hand. "We could get in a lot of trouble for this."

"You don't think we know that?" Morag said, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose.

"But it hasn't done anything to stop us," Lisa finished.

Stewart took a few quiet moments to mull on the situation, chewing on his bottom lip and ringing the hems of his robes through his fingers. After what felt like ages, though, he finally looked up to meet the girls in the eyes.

"I'll do it," he answered plainly. "But I do have one condition."

"What?" Lisa asked, somewhat worried about how big a favor she would have to grant.

"Can Orla join too?" he asked.

"Who's Orla?" Morag looked down at him in the matter of someone who did not have a vast amount of patience for children. Lisa wanted to snap at her roommate for being so short, for fear of scaring the boy away, but ended up saying nothing.

"Orla Quirke," Stewart explained. "She's in my year with me. She would be a great person to have on a newspaper. She's really smart, and really good at talking to people, and really, really…"

Stewart's voice trailed off as a bright flush became darker and darker on the younger boy's face.

_Oh my goodness,_ Lisa thought to herself. _He has a crush on this girl!_ It was perfectly adorable, but not exactly a good qualification for becoming a member of the writing staff for a secret newspaper. Then again, what were they really going to have Stewart do for them aside from grunt work? This Orla wouldn't have to have a terribly long list of experience either, but there would certainly be more than enough of the dull, mind-numbing portions of the work to go around.

* * *

Back in the school corridors, Stewart's robes too were also coated in a fine layer of dew. Of course, he was in much better shape than the older Ravenclaw girls, who were now soaked from head to toe, icy beads of water dripping down their neck and clinging to their eyelashes. Stewart was eager and excited to approach Orla Quirke with their proposal of joining the staff of their newly founded newspaper, while Lisa, Morag, and Mandy lagged behind, their wet clothing nearly doubling their body mass, the three of them just feeling generally wet, cold, and annoyed.

The caught up to Stewart just in time to hear the bronze eagle knocker ask the question that would determine whether or not they would be allowed in. "_John rode to town on Friday, stayed three days in an inn, then rode back on Friday. How?_"

Stewart's brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to work his way through what must have been a new riddle for him. All the while, the three girls stood behind him, shivering and muttering under their breath. Finally, enough was enough. Lisa could have cared less about the value of learning right now. She wanted to sit in front of the fire.

"Friday is name of the horse!" she shouted loud enough that the entire corridor must have heard the answer.

"_Very insightful,_" the knocker responded as the door opened and allowed the students entrance.

The older girls nearly trampled poor Stewart as they rushed up into their common room and threw themselves in front of the fire while Stewart raced off to find Orla himself. With any amount of luck, they would be allowed at least a few moments of warming before Stewart finally found Orla Quirke. It wasn't nearly long enough, though, that Stewart came running up to the three older girls, pointing out his little crush among a gaggle of other second-year girls.

Orla was a small girl with butter-colored hair and sea-green eyes. She was certainly quite pretty, and it was easy to see how Stewart could be attracted to her. She sat on one of the sofas, amid a circle of her female classmates, and absurd amount of laughter being generated between them.

"Can I ask her?" Stewart looked up at Lisa with a begging expression in his eyes. "Please?"

"Sure, Stewart. Go ahead."

Without waiting for any further permission, Stewart rush over to the little cluster of second-years on the sofa, a define sense of purpose in his step.

"He's not really going to ask her in front of all those other people, is he?" Morag asked, turning her attention away from the blazing fire. "Perhaps we should remind him of the definition of the word 'secret'."

Lisa might have been worried for a little while too, except Stewart wasn't saying anything. Yes, he was certainly in range of little Orla Quirke, and it was quite clear that she noticed him. "Um, Stewart, can I help you with something?"

Nothing. Stewart stood before her, but he was certainly not asking her anything that had to do with newspapers. This was just starting to get sad now. As much as it pained Lisa to depart from the warm fire, she pulled away from her roommates and made her way over to where Stewart was crashing and burning.

"Hi, girls," Lisa tried to greet them as sweetly as she could. "Would you mind if I borrowed Orla here, just for a moment?"

The entire group seemed confused by this request, especially poor, little Orla. But luckily for Lisa, Orla's friends all nodded, giving Lisa permission to lead the second-year girl away.

"Wonderful," Lisa said, taking Orla by the folds of her robes, and then doubling back to collect Stewart. "You're coming too, Stewart."

And with that, the two second-years were dragged back to the fire: Orla still puzzled and bewildered, and Stewart seeming as though he were trying to speak, but his words either coming out too jumbled to understand or otherwise complete nonsense. It was clear that Orla had yet to learn the potential power she would have over boys very soon. _It was so cute_.

Once Orla had joined the budding staff at the fire, the entire concept of the secret newspaper was explained once again for her benefit. As the fifth-year girls took turns giving the details, little Orla's eyes grew wider and wider. But the time they were finished speaking, in fact, she could have easily passed for a young Loony Lovegood.

"But…you guys…" she asked them in hushed whispers, "couldn't we get expelled for that kind of thing?"

"DOESN'T MATTER!" Stewart burst out suddenly, loud enough for the whole common room to here. The older girls all tried to keep from saying anything, hoping their housemate would believe Stewart's outburst had been about something frivolous, like Chocolate Frog cards or the Tutshill Tornado's latest win in the league.

"It's about the p-principle," Stewart was finally able to say somewhat quieter, although he still seemed to be getting stuck on certain letters of the alphabet. "It's like the girls told me, Orla. We shouldn't even b-be getting in troub-ble for d-doing something like this. That means something is wrong. And that's why we need to d-do this…at least that's way _they_ said."

Stewart made sure to point an accusing finger at Lisa and her roommates, just in case Orla didn't quite agree with this philosophy. Of course, when Orla actually did agree, he tried to snatch a little of the credit back for himself.

Lisa looked around at the people that would be solely responsible for delivering an alternate source of media to the Hogwarts students: cynical, bespectacled Morag, plain, mousy Mandy, blushing, stuttering Stewart, and little, pretty Orla. And, of course, Lisa herself.

Lisa wondered just how long it would be before they all got caught.

But she was also the one who had gotten them all into this in the first place, and she most certainly hadn't done it because she was afraid of the consequences. She was not going to do anything to put a stop to it now.


	4. Chapter 4 Distribution

**Author's Notes:** The dialogue from Trelawney being fired comes from _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix._

* * *

**Chapter 4  
Distribution**

"Orla, have you finished the layout for page three?" Mandy called out as she sliced piece of typing paper apart with a scalpel-like cutting tool.

"Nearly," the younger girl told her as she stifled a yawn.

It was almost morning, and the paper's final layout still wasn't finished. If they had wanted to have any hope of sending the original copy to Mandy's brother in London to be printed, they would probably have to work all through today as well.

The weekdays had been not nearly as busy as the past couple of days had been. The three fifth-year girls wrote two more stories each, even needing Stewart and Orla to contribute their own writings as well. But aside from listing some more story ideas in the margins of their composition books, no strenuous work had been done on the new newspaper. This was not a mistake they would make in their next issue.

The fifth-year girls' dormitory had been converted into their central news office over the course of the weekend. Stewart had been able to join in the work (there was not a girl in Ravenclaw who did not know how to lift the boy-blocking charms on the girls' staircases) without drawing attention when he snuck upstairs, Orla was faking sick with a bundle of dirty robes under her covers as her alibi, and with their O.W.L.s coming up in a matter of weeks, no one thought anything of the fifth-year girls not coming out for days on end.

The entire process had been draining: both physically and emotionally. First was the actual writing the stories, in addition to research and looking over their shoulders at all time. Then, they had needed to get their hands on a typewriter, smuggling it out of the Muggle Studies classroom without Professor Burbage seeing them. At _The Daily Prophet_, they had dozens of typewriter: magically charmed ones that would type out stories in no time at all without making a single mistake. The Ravenclaw staff, however, was limited to only one, which they would have to use the Muggle way; meaning lots of time, lots of typos, and sore fingers.

After that came the process of creating the layout, the single copy that Mandy's brother would use to create the copies on his university's printing press. This was the part that took longer than anything else. Cutting, planning, pasting, re-planning, re-pasting, and starting all over again. The whole process went through a shocking amount of paper for such a small end product.

But when it was finally done, when the staff were all covered in paste, paper bits, and cuts, the end product was perfect: well worth the time and lack of sleep that had gone into making it. The baby was crisp, lined over near-pure white, the paper not yet having the chance to age. Stories, photographs (Lisa wonder whether or not the pictures would still move in the new prints), bylines; it looked every part the way a true newspaper should.

Soon enough, Lisa became aware of several sets of eyes looking over her shoulder, scanning over the numerous stories. The title spread over the front page in bold ink calligraphy: _The Fourth Estate_. Mandy had come up with the name. It was a Muggle term she had learned from her brother. It came from the fact that most Muggle democracies contained three branches of government, but that a free press was also needed to make sure the government was working to serve the people, making it the 'fourth estate' of the government. Lisa liked this concept. It seemed like quite an enlightened perspective, she thought, yet it was one that the wizarding world had yet to embrace.

It was a bit odd, considering how those in charge of wizarding society considered Muggles to be some primitive creatures still dragging their knuckles and people to associate for the phrase, 'Bless them'.

One of the girl's hands stretched over Lisa's shoulder to trace her finger along the byline giving her credit for writing the story. No one used their real names to sign their stories; that would have just been idiotic. Lisa was Mr. A, Morag was Mr. E, Mandy was Mr. I, Orla was Mr. O, and Stewart was Mr. U. It didn't really matter to them that the rest of the school knew who they were. They all knew who one another was, and that was enough.

And then, before anyone was really ready to have it taken away, Mandy snatched the paper out of Lisa's. "Now we send it off!"

Everyone else in the room groaned, but Mandy was already pacing the floor, working out the fine details of the next phase of the plan. She didn't even seem to notice the others there.

"Two hundred copies will be more than enough," she said. "People can share. Having too many would be dangerous anyway."

"Will an owl be able to carry all those?" Stewart asked her, mentally calculating how much all the copies would weigh.

"It won't be that heavy," Mandy assured him as she tucked the layout into a book bag. "We're hardly circulating throughout the whole country."

An Undetectable Extension Charm had already been cast on the bag so the two hundred copies of _The Fourth Estate_ could actually fit inside.

"Will he even need magic to fill the bag up, though?" Lisa asked.

"No," Mandy told them. "I've made a point of learning which spells can be used by people without magic as well."

Lisa was sure that she could have found at least a dozen other potential problems with this plan, but she didn't have time to point any of them out before Mandy dropped the layout into the book bag and nearly shoved the waiting owl out the window. There was most definitely no going back now.

* * *

On a Friday afternoon, most of the students of Hogwarts were relaxed and thinking nothing of schoolwork. Lisa Turpin, Morag MacDougal, and Mandy Brocklehurst, however, were sitting up in their bedroom, waiting for a certain owl to arrive with a certain book bag for them. They had been doing this for days now. The three older girls had only just now succeeded in getting the junior members of their staff to relax and quit pacing the floors of the fifth-year dormitory. Besides, if those two spent too much time in their room, someone would eventually begin to notice.

Especially since not everyone who lived in this bedroom was among the inner circle of _The Fourth Estate_. The girls were given a very strong reminder of this when their bedroom door was thrown open with a bang.

"Padma!" Lisa found herself involuntarily gasping in the manner that most people might scream.

The entire cast of Ravenclaw girls was surprised; no one in their room could confidently say that they had seen their fifth-year prefect late at night for more than a few moments, even before the Christmas holidays. It was how they had been able to write a newspaper in this room without anyone noticing. And certainly they were not going to ask Padma where she had been so late every night, even without the secrecy of _The Fourth Estate_. The four girls all got along well enough, but they were hardly touchy-feely bestest friends. They just lived together.

All the same, no one was going to allow the prefect to know what was going on in their room when she wasn't there.

"Hello, Padma," Mandy and Morag said, trying to keep their tones far calmer than Lisa had been.

Padma waved to her roommates, breathing a slight, exhausted groan. She made her way straight to her bed and dropped face-first onto the covers, legs dangling over the edge and shoes and socks still on her feet.

Padma had been coming to bed increasingly later and later for many nights now, and it was clearly affecting me. As loosely-defined journalists, the girls had to become increasingly observant. They had been watching her in class, and it had been becoming a battle for the girl to stay awake through the day, except for in Defense Against the Dark Arts, where she and the rest of the boys were just as vigorous in their campaign against Umbridge as ever. Still, most every night, she would come back to the dormitory and crash onto her bed, her roommate bearing witness to all of it.

"Should we be at all concerned about her?"

"Owl!" Morag shouted over her shoulder, just before a large tawny owl swopped in to land on their window ledge, dropping a rather heavy-sounding book bag onto the floor.

Concern could wait.

* * *

Late at night, the Ravenclaw common room was completely devoid of life. Still, a dim fire glowed in the hearth, offering just enough light to see by, and the staff of a newspaper that no one knew existed sat huddles around it, thumbing through the hundreds of copies of their first edition. It was the most beautiful thing Lisa had ever seen; black and white columns lined neatly, all fitting together perfectly. In the back of her mind, she wondered if this was the exact same feeling a mother had when she held her child for the first time.

"So how exactly are we going to pass these out?" Lisa pondered aloud. "We can't very well pass these out ourselves. That is just begging to get caught."

"We could just leave copies around the school," Orla proposed, flipping through as stack of papers as though it were a deck of cards. "In places where students would find them, but teachers wouldn't."

"But what if a teacher _does_ manage to get their hands on a copy?" Morag said, who cradled a stack of papers as though she held the same feelings towards the edition that Lisa did. "Shouldn't we have some kind of charm in place just in case that happens?"

"Like what?" Mandy asked. This was most certainly an important thing to consider, and Lisa scolded herself for not thinking of this sooner. The paper certainly wouldn't last for very long once a copy of these stories was turned over to Umbridge.

"I know a Spontaneous Combustion Spell that could be placed on the papers," Stewart offered. "It's really wicked! You can set it so that if a certain person picks it up, it will burst into flames."

Orla began to giggle. "That would be hilarious, wouldn't it? And then the Slytherins from the Inquisitorial Squad could think they made some big discovery, but if they try to show it to a teacher, it will just start on fire! Wouldn't that be just so funny?"

Stewart's head went up a little bit higher and his cheeks took on a bit of a red tint.

"And maybe some second degree burns on their fingertips will make them think twice about turning in their own," Morag joked in a snarky manner.

The girls all snickered at the mental image as Stewart cast the charms over the stacks of newspaper. They even spoke of other possible hexes to place on members of the Inquisitorial Squad, not all of them ones that would be placed on the paper. Lisa suggested they should find a way to fix their silver badges to their cheeks, if they were so proud of them!

The joking and games, however, stopped the moment Stewart cast the last of his series of combustion charms. At the same point in time when handing _The Fourth Estate_ stopped being an abstract plan and was about the be a very real action. In silence, the paper stacks were split into five equal piles, one for each member of the staff to hand out. They helped one another fill up their book bag, hoist the straps onto their shoulders, and walked together, probably a little closer than was necessary, down the staircase of their tower and into the main castle. This was finally where they were forced to part ways, though they linger together for as long as they possibly could.

All by herself, though, the castle corridors were disturbingly quiet, dark, and almost sinister. The torches flickered shaky shadows along the walls and Lisa found herself flinching at ever small movement. She tried to shake her head and try to get a hold of herself. At this rate, she was going have a heart condition before she even got back to bed.

"Miss Turpin!"

Lisa jolted, feeling as though her heart might stop.

It was Professor Snape, the absolute worst teacher that could have caught her out of bed (Umbridge didn't count, for Lisa didn't consider her a real teacher). Besides being one of the sternest and most ill-tempered of all the teachers Lisa had ever had, he was also the Head of Slytherin house, the exact house that every member of the Inquisitorial Squad was from. Forget the trouble Lisa would be in behavior-wise; what would happen if he asked to search her bag and found all her copies of _The Fourth Estate_?

"Would you mind telling me exactly what you are doing out of bed at such an ungodly hour?"

Lisa had to be quick. "I was…um, going to the bathroom."

_Oh, that was pathetic!_ The bathroom? Could she possible have thought of something less original if she'd tried?

"The bathroom?" Professor Snape repeated. "And would you mind explaining why you found it necessary to bring your book bag along with you?"

"I have…um, 'girl things' in it."

It took a few moments for the Potions professor to realize what Lisa's tone was implying. But it was clear when he finally did understand, as his features went blank and Lisa was certain she could see a faint blush in the dim light.

_Perfect!_ Lisa thought smugly to herself. _Search my bag now!_

"Well, then…" Professor Snape began, "you can just do…what it is you were going to do, but I expect you to go straight to your dormitory afterwards. I will still be in the halls, and I expect not to see you again for the rest of the night!"

Professor Snape stormed off, though Lisa suspected it was more out of a desire to get away from her than catching more students out of bed. Lisa smirked to herself. She has never felt quite as powerful as she did at this moment in time.

She also still had a limited amount of time to get back to the Ravenclaw dormitories and a book bag still filled with copies of _The Fourth Estate_.

Heavy distribution was not going to happen tonight.

Rustling through the corridors, Lisa made her way to the bathrooms, just to be certain that Professor Snape wouldn't have a reason to punish her. And a chance to catch her breath and splash some cold water on her face would do her a world of good.

Once the bathroom door was shut behind her, Lisa did feel a lot safer in the closed-off environment. She sidestepped her way to the corner and slid down to the floor, closing her eyes. She just needed a few quiet moments to get her heart rate back down to normal, where no one would be sneaking up behind her at any second.

Maybe she really wasn't cut out for the life of a journalist. It was supposed to be a job where people were under constant stress for one of a thousand reasons. Or maybe she would just never work as a paperboy. At least not one for an illegal newspaper.

Taking up her book bag when she pushed herself up off the floor, she made her way over to the sinks, turning the taps on and off again, just because she wasn't quite ready to leave yet. But even after she was bored with the sinks, she still didn't want to leave what she perceived as a safe environment, so she moved on to the toilets, flushing them one by one.

This was absolutely pathetic! Here she was, nearly sixteen years old, and still hiding from the Boogieman in the bathroom! Ravenclaw may not have been the house of the bold and the chivalrous, but she should have at least had enough sense to know she would not be snuck up upon just because she was afraid it might happen. But she could not ignore the screaming voice in her head that would not shut up until she locked herself in her bedroom.

Before she actually did leave the bathroom, though, she made the decision to at least hide a few copies of the paper for _somebody_ to find. Folded into thirds, Lisa stuck copies of _The Fourth Estate_ into the toilet tanks, the heading poking out just enough so for people to be able to see.

* * *

"How could you have only distributed five copies of _The Fourth Estate_?"

As Mandy counted her way through the leftover newspapers and Morag slid the neat stacks under her bed, Lisa sat hunch on her covers, grasping her sides as her stomach cramped. Stewart and Orla were sleeping safely in the second-year dormitories, with their own bookbags left at Lisa's bedside, each still not seeming to be any less empty than they had been when they set off earlier that evening.

Morag and Mandy had had their own troubles in the corridors. Mandy had been tormented by Peeves when she was literally five feet from the library entrance, and then tortured all the way back to Ravenclaw. Morag, on the other hand, had been unfortunate enough to meet up with some of Umbridge's newly acquired pets: three girls trying to work their way into the Inquisitorial Squad, who became very interested in Morag's late-night activities the moment they saw her Ravenclaw badge. Since it was only Slytherins who came under Umbridge's wing, students who used the current political turmoil within the school to their advantage, and all the student who thought otherwise were becoming increasingly harassed. Lisa could only imagine the fate that might have met a younger, less experienced student than Morag that wander the school corridors without the silver badge people were beginning to call 'The Mark of the Beast', nor the ability to defend themselves with magic.

Orla and Stewart had never left one another, even after the older Ravenclaws had parted ways. This should have offered them a bit more courage than lone girls had had, but then they ran into the Bloody Baron. Despite all the stories the Slytherins had whispered, just within earshot of the other Houses, Lisa had not heard of anyone being harmed by the ghost in all the years she had attended Hogwarts. Granted, all the blood on his robes, combined with the cloak of darkness, it was somewhat more understandable that the two second-years had taken off running the moment they saw him.

"What are we going to do with all these in the mean time?" Lisa had to bring up. Nearly all two hundred copies of _The Fourth Estate_ were still in the possession, and still just as capable of getting them all expelled.

"We're just going to have keep them hidden," Mandy said. "Very, _very_ well-hidden until we can think of a better method of passing these out."

There were very few places that a student could hide a large amount of anything in this school. And up until this year, no one had really had reason to. But circumstance had led to the extended need for creativity, and luckily, the very un-magical space underneath the beds held the exact same number of papers that a charmed book bag did. Maybe creativity wasn't the right word for it.

"Is there enough room for all of them?" Lisa finally asked, though she still felt slightly ill.

Morag kicked one last stack under her bed, which ended up falling sideways. "Yes, plenty. But I am not keeping those things under there for the rest of the term."

"But how are we going to hand these things out now?" Mandy had to bring up once again.

"Maybe we could hire paperboys to do it," Morag suggested, though it was clearly not a serious phrase. "We could reach out to other houses, and meet them wearing masks. We could go on writing and no one would ever know it was us!"

The girls all groaned and let their heads droop backwards as they wallowed. But as Lisa's mind wandered through self-pity, her thinking moved to more abstract notions in Morag's suggestion…

Maybe reaching out to the other houses was _exactly_ what they needed to do!

Lisa shot to her feet, eyes darting around the room. "Where's Padma?"

In unison, the other two girls pointed to one of the rumple-sheeted beds where Padma lay completely tangled up and completely unnoticed by Lisa up until now.

Padma had been staying out later and later, still for reasons the other Ravenclaw girls did not care to guess. But her sleep was now truly beginning to suffer. No matter how many late nights the staff put in on their secret project, they were still nothing to stand out against with Padma falling asleep in near every class she took. They had been able to carry out this entire conversation with any disturbances from her. The only real challenge would be waking the prefect up and getting her to the point where she was actually capable of having an intelligent conversation.

"Padma?" Lisa shook the sleeping prefect's shoulder. "Hey Padma, wake up!"

The prefect grumbled about being awoken, although the way she had been positioned, would most likely have been torture to spend the whole night in.

"Padma?" Lisa finally asked. "Your sister is in Gryffindor with Fred and George Weasley, aren't they?"

Padma nodded, rubbing at her eyes, trying to blink them into alertness.

"Would she know where we could find them if we wanted to buy some of their products?"

* * *

"This is Tacky Snack," Lisa said as she finished applying the last coat to Orla's stomach. "The Weasley twins originally made it just to be a very sticky sweet, but then they learned it could also be used to smuggle things against one's body."

Mandy had managed to snatch up a paintbrush from somewhere, and now Lisa was using it to keep a messy job from becoming even messier.

"Things can stick to it strong, but they can actually be peeled off rather easily," she went on, demonstrating by sticking one of the papers across Orla's abdomen and then pulling it off again. "It doesn't even smudge the ink, see? This is just so perfect!"

Stewart was sitting outside their bedroom door with his ear against the crack so he could still participate in the conversation. It must have been horribly isolating, but Lisa was most defiantly not going to allow a twelve-year-old boy to sit and stare at a room full of girls in their knickers.

With the last of the girls covered in the Tacky Snack, Lisa then set about covering their stomachs with copies of _The Fourth Estate_. They would most likely have to come back to their room between classes and repeat this process several more times today, but it was one of the few ways where they wouldn't have to worry about being discovered.

"So who's going to stick the Tacky stuff to me?" Stewart asked from the staircase.

"No one, Stewart. It's just going to be us," Lisa told him. "I don't think the teachers or the Inquisitorial Squad would search under a _girl's_ clothes and risk a scandal."

Horribly sexist, Lisa could hear it herself, but that didn't change the fact that it was most likely a correct assumption. The moment members of the Inquisitorial Squad started using their authority to look under girls' jumpers, parents would stop thinking all these new Ministry reforms were so wonderful.

Maybe the girls should even dare the boys to do it. The papers would burst into flames the moment they tried to show anyone, and Professor Dumbledore would probably be more than happy to expel them for the offence. He might never get another chance like this again.

* * *

Even though Lisa never actually saw anyone reading a copy of _The Fourth Estate_, it wasn't difficult to see that word of the paper was spinning around the school. Through the corridors all the next day, she would hear the occasional whispers of 'Mr. A' or 'Mr. U', see students point something out to one another hidden behind a textbook, and everyone seeming just a bit jumpier than they had been the week before. Despite all this, Lisa could not help but notice one key detail: students were talking to one another, they were discussing, and it was about nothing that had been pre-approved by the Ministry.

At last, Lisa was finally beginning to feel the rush of excitement Mandy must have been feeling all along. For the entire school day, she jittered and tapped her fingers against her desk, leading Professor Babbling to ask her several times if she needed to use the bathroom during Ancient Runes, and in Potions, Professor Snape asking her to stand up in front of the whole class and tell everyone what she was so excited about. But when Lisa started spouting off about an imaginary letter she had received from a boy, she was quickly asked to sit back down again.

"Mandy, Morag!" Lisa exclaimed, rushing across the courtyard to meet her roommates. "People have really been reading _The Fourth Estate_! I've been hearing about it all day! I've been seeing it all day! Have either of you been noticing…"

But Lisa's voice trailed off as she noticed the mass of students to rise from their seats and start moving. It didn't take more than a few seconds after that for students to start rushing at the Great Hall doors. And like sheep—though Lisa preferred to think investigative journalists—Mandy, Morag, and Lisa made their way to the doors as well.

The amazingly loud whispers between the dozens of students made it impossible to clearly make out what was being said, but from between the legs of the students in front of her, Lisa could at least see. Professor Trelawney was standing the entryway with what looked like a near-empty bottle of sherry gasped in her hand and trunks carelessly tossed around her as though they had been thrown from the stairs.

"What's going on?" Lisa asked.

"Trelawney is being sacked," a seventh-year Hufflepuff whispered. "Umbridge is actually kicking her out of the school."

Lisa couldn't believe it. Up until now, Umbridge had only had power to make the students' lives miserable, but to the teachers, she had only been an annoyance, sitting in on their classes. This was the first sign of any real power from the toady woman from the Ministry. Lisa didn't take Divination, and none of her roommates in Ravenclaw did either. Truth be told, it might have been a much more respectable subject if it hadn't been for the class' joke of a teacher.

All the same, even Professor Trelawney didn't deserve this.

Professor McGongall squeezed her way through the crowd that had gathered at the doors, making her way to the emotionally distraught (and likely drunk) Divination teacher. "There, there, Sibyll…Calm down…Blow your nose on this. …It's not as bad as you think, now…You are not going to have to leave Hogwarts…"

"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" Umbridge sauntered over to the woman. The astonishing difference in height really would have been quite humorous if this weren't such a potent situation. "And your authority for that statement is…?"

"That would be mine."

He seemed to float down the staircase and made his way regally to the cluster of emotional women, while he himself remained calm and collected. It was really quite impressive.

Umbridge did not seem quite as impressed, though. "Yours, Professor Dumbledore? I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister of Magic." Umbridge reached into her robes. "Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation, and sack any teacher she—that is to say, I—feel is not performing up to the standard required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her."

But, of course, Professor Dumbledore had a prepared answer for this.

"You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge. As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid that the power to do that still resides with the headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney continue to live at Hogwarts."

Even in the wake of being rescued, Professor Trelawney was still a blubbering, stumbling mess. Lisa knew the woman was upset, but please, have a _little_ dignity!

"No—no, I'll g-go, Dumbledore! I sh-shall l-leave Hogwarts and s-seek my fortune elsewhere—"

"No," Professor Dumbledore insisted. "It is my wish that you remain, Sibyll." He turned to Professor McGonagall, ignoring the purplish tone creeping into Umbridge's cheeks. "Might I ask you to escort Sibyll back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?"

"Of course," Professor McGonagall replied, helping the somewhat tipsy Professor Trelawney to steady herself. "Up you get, Sibyll…"

Eventually, more of the school's teachers moved through the crowd to help the dismissed Divination teacher, all under the watchful eye of the headmaster. In a lot of way, Professor Dumbledore reminded Lisa oddly of a four-year-old. Yes, allowing Professor Trelawney was the 'right' thing to do, but Lisa almost felt that it had more to do with the fact that it was something that it was something that would truly annoy Umbridge. _Good for him!_ she thought all the same.

"And what," Umbridge asked him in that menacing way of hers, "are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?"

"Oh, that won't be a problem," Professor Dumbledore said with a slight twinkle in his eyes. "You see, I have already found us a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor."

"You've found—?" Umbridge stammered before shock finally turned to anger. "_You've_ found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore that under Educational Degree Twenty-two—"

"—the Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if—and only if—the headmaster is unable to find one." Professor Dumbledore face had the very slightest hint of a smirk. "And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeed. May I introduce you?"

Lisa couldn't help but be certain that it was the sound of hoof-steps. She had heard of an expression that had to do with a person hearing hooves and either thinking horses or zebras. But when she saw the school's new Divination teacher, she wondered how it was that centaurs would fit into that saying. Because that was exactly what she saw: a rather young-looking centaur with a pale palomino body. Despite the fact that he wasn't exactly human, Lisa couldn't help but notice he was quite handsome.

"This is Firenze," Professor Dumbledore introduced the teacher. "I think you'll find him suitable."

Lisa doubted that Umbridge could have been more stunned if Professor Dumbledore had simply pulled a student out of the crowd to teach the class. Her shoulders twitched uncomfortably, and she turned her nose up as though the school already smelled like a stable. Professors scatter around the scene in various stages of shock and awe. Even the students seemed to be at a loss for words.

"Well, then, it has been a trying evening for all of us," Professor Dumbledore went on, trying to end the conversation with a more pleasant tone. "I'm sure Professor Fizenze would like to be shown to his lodgings so that he may settle in for the night. Please follow me, Professor."

The headmaster seemed to be using the word 'Professor' when addressing the centaur as much a physically possible. He must have notice the slight twitch in Umbridge's posture whenever he said the word. After Dumbledore and Firenze left, and even the gathered student had lost interest, Umbridge was still standing dumbstruck in the middle of the floor. If she were someone less intimidating, a few more curious students might have stayed behind to poke the toad-like woman with a stick, as though she were some strange animal.

"I almost wish I took Divination now," Mandy rambled excitedly. "That Firenze has to be the first non-wizarding teacher in the history of Hogwarts!"

Lisa had to nod in agreement. What exactly would a centaur have to teach about magic, if they couldn't even practice it for themselves?

"It not as though he has very far to work his way up to," Morag whispered with a slight snicker in her voice. "Trelawney _aspires_ to be a subpar teacher."

Suddenly, the two girls walking in front of them spun around to face them. One of the girls, a rather ditzy-looking blonde, was a stranger, but her friend was the mirror image of Padma Patil in red and gold, meaning she could only be Parvati. Her eye were still red and shiny; she had been one of the girls who had been crying when Umbridge had announced Professor Trelawney's dismissal.

"And, of course, I mean that in the nicest possible way," Morag finished quickly, even if it wasn't very sincerely. It was a good thing no one knew that she was one of the staff writers for _The Fourth Estate_, because according to Padma, her sister was one of the biggest gossips in their years, and Lisa couldn't think of anything that would kill their sales (though they weren't technically making any money off the paper) faster.

On the way back to the Ravenclaw tower, Mandy leaned over to whisper in Lisa's ear. "Am I a bad person for think of what a wicked story this will make?"

"I don't think so," Lisa assured her. Truth be told, she had been thinking the exact same thing.


	5. Chapter 5 Off the Record

**Chapter 5  
Off the Record**

No one can see the wind, but you know it exists, because you can see the leaves moving. In much the same way, this was how the staff of _The Fourth Estate_ knew that students were reading their paper. Every time they would check the places they had hidden their copies of the paper, they would be gone. And every now and then, one of the Ravenclaws would hear someone whisper about an article or an exposé in their most recent edition. Also, they would occasionally see members of the Inquisitorial Squad with singed fingertips.

The earth certainly hadn't been shaken by their little paper, but the paper most certainly had created a stir.

Observing Umbridge's reactions from the date of their first printing proved to be quite entertaining as well. At first, she just appeared slightly more observant and paranoid of students whispering in the corridors. Lisa herself had observed on numerous occasions the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher prying conversing students apart, demanding to know the subject of their conversations. Lisa actually knew the day that Umbridge first saw _The Fourth Estate_ for herself. She had come to Ravenclaw Defense Against the Dark Arts class with her hands wrapped in bandages stinking of burn ointment. Of course, this prompted a whole new round of the Question Game from the all too curious Ravenclaws.

"What happened?"

"Did you burn yourself? What degree?"

"Have you been keeping the wound dry? How often have you been applying ointment to it?"

"Is it really gross?"

"Did you get it fighting some sort of Dark Art? Is that what today's lessons will be about?"

"Can we see it?"

Umbridge put a swift end to the game, however, by taking away fifteen points from Ravenclaw for nosiness.

"Little children who ask too many questions often find themselves in more trouble than they ever intended," she told them in a voice that might have sounded sweet to anyone else, but now just made everyone's skin crawl.

Lisa, Mandy, and Morag could all sense the veiled reference to their newspaper, and, of course, trust Morag to take it one step too far.

"But little children who don't ask questions don't learn anything, and isn't that the whole point of school?" she asked, peering over the black rims of her glasses. "If we're done learning, can I go back to bed?"

A breath of air popped out of Umbridge in a little puff, as though she still weren't used to the audacity of teenagers. "Twenty additional points from Ravenclaw, Miss MacDogal," Umbridge said in a dangerous, yet sugary tone, "and I will see _you_ in detention tonight."

Mandy looked back from her seat beside Padma Patil with a worried expression on her face. The Quickslitter Quill had become Umbridge's consistent means of discipline, and as Mandy had actually written an article detailing every aspect of the torture device that Morag would be subjected to tonight, she had a better idea than anyone of what her fellow staff member was about to face.

But Morag simply reclined back in her chair, appearing as calm and content as could be.

"It was worth it," she whispered to Lisa once Umbridge had settled into the day's mindless drivel.

* * *

After supper, in the fifth-year dormitories, Lisa went back and forth between revising a Transfiguation essay and pasting together various notes from an article listing off the books that had disappeared from the Hogwarts library since the beginning of the school year. It wasn't working very well, though, because her attention kept shifting to the doorway, waiting for Morag. Mandy appeared to be having the same problem over by her own nest of schoolbooks and parchments.

Although Lisa had never been subjected to the torture of the of the Quickslitter Quill herself, she had seen plenty of students humbled by the instrument, And although Mandy had included nothing about it in her article, there was a rumor that if someone was forced to write with the quill for long enough, it would eventually cut down to the point where you could actually see bone. Lisa looked down at the watch she was keeping beside her books, It had been exactly three hours, seventeen minutes, and twenty-three seconds since Morag had left the Ravenclaw common room for her detention with Umbridge.

Lisa wished she had some sort of mathematical formula that could be used to calculate how much time Morag had before she cut through to her bones.

All the obsessing with the door turned out to do little good, as Morag burst through the door when Lisa was mid-sentence on her essay on her essay, the surprise leading to a large ink blot right in the middle of the parchment.

Morag didn't appear overly pained or distressed, although there was a thick wrapping of red-stained gauze around her right hand. In fact, she waltzed right over to her bed, dropped to the floor, and pulled out a shoe box containing all her news notes.

"Alright!" Morag pushed Lisa's school things aside. "I have my notes for the profiles of the members of the Inquisitorial Squad. I'm pretty sure if we combine everything the five of us have, we can make it into a full page feature. You know what else we should do? We should start doing a crossword. This week, let's have all the answers be names of members of the Inquisitorial Squad. It would be funny, and it would help students remember who to watch out for."

Morag chattered on and on, waving her left hand as she spoke, but keeping her right folded in her lap. Lisa couldn't help but stare down at the bandages and the blood seeping through, as though it might actually form the letters Morag had been forced to write.

"Stewart's become something of our staff shutterbug lately; maybe he can snap a few candid pictures of the Squad members. We can crop them down into profiles later…"

Morag's voice trailed off when she noticed Lisa staring at her. When Lisa finally noticed this, she jerked away, embarrassed. She wasn't quite convinced of the proper etiquette when it came to war wounds. But Morag just smirked in the manner of someone who was, by no means, beaten or broken.

"Want to see it?" she asked, unwrapping the gauze before Lisa could even answer.

Beneath the bandages, Morag's hand was smeared with dry blood, but her skin was still angry red without it. The area around the writing was still heavily inflamed and the words were cut deep: _Asking too many question often has unpleasant consequences._ Thankfully, though, Lisa could see no white fragments in the wound.

"Isn't it wicked?" Morag asked, sounding slightly too excited for the occasion. "Do you think you'll be able to still read it once the scar forms? I am _so_ going to be one of those cool grannies!"

Lisa nodded, but it was in a grim sort of manner. "You should really take it to Madam Pomfrey." It was clear that absolutely nothing had been done to treat the wound.

Morag snatched her hand away as though she were afraid that Lisa might break it off at the wrist and take it to Madam Pomfrey by itself. "Are you kidding? Not before I get a picture of it! I want documentation just in case the scar doesn't retain its shape!"

Then, Morag's hand went up in a 'Eureka' sort of gesture. "Oh! This should be our photo feature for our next edition! We could add a notice to this week's asking people to send us photos of the lines they were asked to write. I'm not sure where we would have them sent or how we would pull it off, but we have to figure it out tonight! Can you imagine the scandal it would create if one of those copies were accidently-on-purpose leaked out into the public? All that Ministry support would dry up in an instant!"

Morag carried on and on, and Lisa couldn't believe it. If it had been _her_ hand that had been sliced open like that, she doubted she would be so chatty and open. And she certainly wouldn't be so ecstatic about the idea of have such a large scar for the rest of her life.

"I wonder if Madam Pomfrey actually takes photos of the injuries that come into her," Morag mused aloud. She seems like the sort who would. She has been extremely vocal about the use of the Quickslitter and keeping photographs of the results would be the best way to put an end to this."

In a sudden burst of emotion that Lisa couldn't even begin to understand, Lisa nearly tackled Morag over with a crushing hug. Morag screeched as though she were being mauled by a wild animal, and it was enough to get Mandy to look up from her own work.

As said, none of the girls had been especially close before this year. They had all been sorted into the same House, they all slept in the same room, and they certainly spent a certain amount of time talking to one another. They certainly knew more about one another than they knew about any of their other school acquaintances, and yet they never became any closer than to say good-night to one another just before going to bed.

_The Fourth Estate_ had changed all that. It had given these three girls a sense of solidarity that went deeper than mere schoolgirl friendships. They were like brothers…sisters…brothers _and_ sisters in arms. Eventually, even Mandy joined them on Lisa's bed, though there was no hugging on her part.

The nightly ritual was complete with Padma Patil stumbling into the room just barely making curfew. Every night, the girl would go to bed more and more drain, and getting closer and closer to breaking the rules she was supposed o be enforcing. Some example of a prefect!

"Hi, Padma," they all said in unison.

Padma groaned a noncommittal sound as she strolled zombie-like over to her bed, just before dropping facedown onto the covers, not bothering to crawl under them. None of the other girls had the heart to move her, and as prefect, it was possible she would take away house points for disturbing the girl's sleep.

"Good-night, Padma."

* * *

"Girls, girls!" Stewart raced up the stairs and practically threw himself through the bedroom door. "I have the most amazing thing for our new feature photo section!"

Morag took the first guess. "Madam Pomfrey actually _does_ keep photos of the Quickslitter injuries?"

"No." Stewart shook his head, but the wide smile still remained on his face. "I found a way to make our pictures move even after they've been printed on the Muggle printing press!"

Lisa offered the boy a soft smile and took the scrap of paper Stewart had been waving around. They had come to learn that even if a photograph could move in the original printing, once they had been put through the Muggle printing press, they remained frozen in place exactly where they had been found. True, she could have thought of about a half-dozen things that would have made for better news for the paper, but with their high anticipations for the Quickslitter feature, these really needed these pictures to pop. Especially since they still didn't have that many pictures to show.

"He said we would need a fine mister for the potion," the boy continued on, "but they have plenty of those in the Potions classroom."

This last sentence disturbed Lisa, especially when she began to recognize the fine, spidery script that the potion recipe was written in.

"Stewart," she asked cautiously, "who is 'he' exactly, and where did you get this recipe?"

Stewart must have noticed Lisa's new tone and the change in the room's atmosphere as Mandy and Morag stared at him, anxious to here the answer as well. The second-year's posture became notably more slumped and his voice was barely a whisper as he attempted to confess a name.

"Who was it, Stewart?" Morag pressed, much more stern and forceful than Lisa had been.

Finally, the boy offered up his source, although there was not a soul in the room that didn't wish he hadn't. "Professor Snape."

Poor Stewart probably learned seven new words from the collective swearing spells of the three older girls. It was even enough to bring little Orla up running from the common room as well.

"What happened?" she gasped as soon as she reached the top of the stairs. "What's going on?"

Morag answered the younger girl with her usual eloquence. "Doxy dust-for-brains just let Professor Snape in on out expulsion-worthy little secret!"

That's not necessarily true," Mandy tried to defend Stewart. "All Professor Snape really knows is that Stewart needs the potion for _something_. He doesn't necessarily know what that 'something' is."

"Of course not," Morag responded sarcastically. "But naturally, you can understand my concern that he might notice that the photographs of _The Fourth Estate_ went from still to moving just after Stewart asked for the recipe to such an odd potion."

"We don't even know if he has seen _The Fourth Estate_! Copies combust when a teacher lays their hands on them. He never would have been able to get a good enough look to tell _what_ the pictures were doing!"

Lisa hadn't said a word, because, as of this morning, she was hardly one to talk on the subject. Her only consolation was that Mandy and Morag had not seen it, even though they had been in the same room when it had happened.

Writing articles in class was extremely risky. They had all said it enough times, but there was not a member of the staff that didn't do it. Not if they wanted to publish a weekly paper with only five people working on it. Besides, once the teachers launched into their lecture for the day, their eyes simply skimmed over the students scribbling with quills. It didn't matter what they were writing. And Lisa felt oddly safe doing her writing in Potions. Padma Patil was her Potions partner, so Lisa didn't have to worry about the other girls panicking over the fact that she was working on what was supposed to be a secret document. And Padma wasn't going to tell on her. In fact, Lisa was certain she had seen a corner of _The Fourth Estate_ poking out of the prefect's book bag.

Lisa had become so engrossed in her writing that she didn't even notice the Potions professor creep up beside her in that sneaky way of his. She didn't notice anything was amiss until her parchment was yanked rudely out from underneath her quill.

"What is this?" he stated loudly enough so that the entire class had heard him.

Ordinarily, Professor Snape would have proceeded to out loud the note he had confiscated, because ' it was just so important, it couldn't wait until after class.' Lisa, however, was saved by what could only be called an act of God. Zacharias Smith's sleeve caught fire from an ignored cauldron burner, and when he had seen it, he panicked, falling backward into Hannah Abbott's and Susan Bones' table, which had caused both girls to launch into a screaming fit, as though they had caught fire themselves. It took less than five seconds for the classroom to erupt into chaos, and in the midst of it all, Lisa's article disappeared into the folds of Professor Snape's robes as he struggled to get his students under control, sparing Lisa from a horrible fate.

But just because she had been spared from that sort of exposure did not mean she was off the hook entirely. After the initial pandemonium had been dispersed, it was still clear that no real work was going to get done, so Professor Snape dismissed the class early. Although, he had still not forgotten what had been occupying his attention just before the Hufflepuff boy burst into flame.

"Miss Turpin, please stay after class."

The moment Lisa had heard that, she could have sworn she felt her heart jump up into her throat. She turned around slowly to see the Potions Master take a seat behind his desk and was staring menacingly up at her. Every animal instinct she had was telling Lisa to run, but her feet betrayed her, leading her to stand before judgment in front of the desk.

"Miss Turpin," Professor Snape began in a low tone, extracting Lisa's parchment from his robes, "what is this exactly?"

The tone demanded an answer, but Lisa remained silent. What was she supposed to say? She couldn't very well come right out with the truth, not if she wanted to remain a Hogwarts students long enough to take her O.W.L.s; but it always took a certain amount of time to come up with a convincing lie for Professor Snape. And unfortunately, it was time that a student usually didn't have.

"This here does not have anything to do with the subject of Potions, does it, Miss Turpin?" he remarked smoothly.

Lisa could only shake her head no. All she could think about was how long it would take for the wrath of Umbridge to come crashing down upon her head.

"Miss Turpin, Potions class is not for scribbling notes in. Your classes this year are especially important; and I believe you have said that you wish to take Potions as a N.E.W.T. student. You do remember that I only accept students who score an Outstanding?"

Lisa nodded, but could only force herself to pay half-attention. The whole time, her eyes remained on the piece of parchment in Professor Snape's grip. Her emotional side was telling her to just grab the parchment and run, but her logical side told her that if she did, she would most likely be dead before she made it to the door.

Professor Snape folded his hand over the pavement. "Well, since you didn't find it within your power to devote your attention to Potion in class today, you can devote attention to it on your own time. Five hundred lines: _Potions class is for studying Potions_; on my desk by next class. I have to tell you, Miss Turpin, I would have expected this sort of disrespect from a first-year or a Gryffindor, but certainly not from you."

Professor Snape snarled and pushed Lisa's article away, as though its mere existence disgusted him. "You are dismissed!"

The Potions professor's attention then turned to a stack of sloppily-written essays and Lisa's parchment went ignored. For a long moment, Lisa remained at a loss for what to do. Would taking back the parchment insight a whole new wave of wrath from her bitter teacher? Had he even hexed the parchment to do something horrible to her the moment she touched it, just to further teach her a lesson? It did seem like she had been let off especially easy, especially for Professor Snape.

Eventually, the professor looked up and realized that Lisa was still standing before him. "Miss Turpin. When I said 'Dismissed' and stopped talking, it means you can leave."

Lisa desperately wanted to obey, but she desperately wanted her article back as well. "But, sir, what about my parchment?"

Professor Snape pushed the essays aside and pinched the bridge of his nose. Lisa knew she had set the man up to say something awful to her, and Lisa wondered to herself if a teacher could even get away with saying what she was imagining.

"Frankly, Miss Turpin, I could care less about what you choose to do that piece of parchment," he told her, "but I also imagine that your friends would be quite upset if you showed up to your next meeting without that article."

Lisa felt the blood drain from her face. She should have just run.

At the very least, Professor Snape seemed to be thoroughly amused by the whole scenario. "I gather from your reaction that I wasn't supposed to know what this was written for? A certain _Fourth Estate_?"

Lisa tried to speak, defend herself, do anything, but her voice kept getting caught in her throat, and all she could manage were a few stammering, "U-um…Umbah…"

"Don't worry, Professor Umbridge does not know who is responsible for the paper," he assured her. "In fact, I think I am the only member of the staff who has had the pleasure of sharing company with one of the Mister Vowels."

Finally, Lisa regained her ability to form tangible sentences. "The staff?"

Professor Snape smiled; the first time Lisa had seen him do so in the five years that he had been her teacher. "Yes. I must say, you have quite a following among the school's staff. I can assure you, though, we are quite careful that Dolores Umbridge does not see us."

Lisa was still confused by the entire scenario. "Teachers…aren't supposed to be able to read it."

"Your little Combustion Charm?" he asked. "Cute, and good for a few stinging fingertips, but I would think you would know that a Hogwarts professor is more than capable of lifting such a childish hex."

Lisa spoke up before she even took an opportunity to consider her words. "Professor Umbridge hasn't."

That was a mistake.

"Miss Turpin!" Professor Snape shouted, slamming his quill against the desktop with his palm. "You consider Professor Umbridge even a half-competent witch? Do you need five hundred lines to correct that notion as well?"

Lisa shook her head slowly, but it was an answer that seemed to satisfy Professor Snape, who moved to pick up his quill. Still, there was one thing that remained on her mind.

"Are you going to tell?" she managed to whisper.

The Potions professor's face took on a slightly more thoughtful expression. "Because my Slytherins have all joined up on Professor Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad?"

"I suppose…" Lisa confessed. "Also, Umbridge was very clear about student organizations being run without her permission. Aren't you sort of obligated to tell her now that you know who is responsible?"

Professor Snape set his quill down for good, giving up on correcting papers while Lisa was still in his classroom. "Miss Turpin, Slytherins and Ravenclaws have a great deal in common. You are both clever, resourceful, and you both know how to put what resources you have to your best use."

Lisa nodded, unsure of whether to take the words as a compliment or not.

"But Slytherins will take any chance that comes their way if it offers them an opportunity of advancement, no matter how idiotic it might be." The professor's tone shifted slightly. "Ravenclaws seem to have more dignity than that. It's your House's one redeeming quality, in my opinion."

"So…" Lisa asked, her voice trailing, "is that a yes or a no?"

The professor snorted at the Ravenclaw's inability to piece together his cryptic words. "No, Miss Turpin. I'm not going to 'tell'. I personally believe that the Ministry currently has more important things to worry about than what one fifth-year chooses to scribble in her parchment margins. And that Professor Umbridge is simply drunk with power, and it will run itself out eventually."

Professor Snape then offered a piece of advice to the girl. "Just make sure you don't get caught before then."

Lisa smiled a relieved sort of smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

"And so you know, Miss Turpin," Professor Snape confided in her, "the crossword puzzle was highly amusing, although I'm not sure I wish to know how you found out Gregory Goyle still wets the bed."

"As a journalist, I can't ethically reveal my sources," she told him smugly.

"Yes, yes, Miss Turpin," the professor said, picking up his quill to resume his correcting.

Lisa had left the Potions classroom feeling so very relieved, a feeling that ended at this moment in the dormitory. She had a feeling that Professor Snape had given Stewart the potion in the first place in order to help them. If it had been any other student, he would have just snapped at them and told them to look it up themselves. She couldn't figure out why the bitter man had chosen to help them, but all the same, she was not going to turn away help that was offered to her.

The staff of _The Fourth Estate_ always saved five copies of each edition to keep for themselves, all secretly hoping the paper wouldn't stay in circulation for _too_ long, lest their homes be filled with towers of newspapers when they were old. This week, however, Lisa made sure to save one extra copy of the paper, which she tucking in between the pages of her Potions textbook. And once her roommates were all asleep, she set to work making a special crossword-only edition of _The Fourth Estate_.

* * *

"Stewart," Lisa stomped her foot beside her bed, "how are the pictures coming?"

Mandy had lost the game of odds-evens, and so underneath her bed became the dark room for _The Fourth Estate_. Mandy would always be the last to bed, because Stewart would stay up so late into the night working on his photographs, and any sudden unconscious movement could splash dangerous chemicals into his eyes and leave him blind. And how would they go about explaining _that_ to Professor Flitwick?

Not to mention the smell was awful.

The four other girls did their cutting, pasting, and typing a good distance away, so as to prevent any unwanted disasters. Off to the side, stacks of this week's edition of _The Fourth Estate_ stood balanced against the wall, waiting to be passed out, dozens of copies already stuck underneath the girls' clothes.

_The Fourth Estate_ had been printing for three weeks now, and the five staff members had their system down to the point where they could easily print one issue a week, sometimes even two. They had been able to work the print process into a finely tuned science.

"C'mon people!" Mandy clapped her hands excitedly. "This will be our last issue before the Easter holidays, so let's really make it sing!"

It was true. Tonight, they would be passing out their currently finished copy of _The Fourth Estate_, as it was their last chance to do so before they would be sent home for the holidays. This one would be especially important, since there was even the smallest chance of the issues being brought home to be seen by someone other than the students who had been reading them for weeks. This might well be one of their only chances to get the outside world to see what was really going on inside Hogwarts.

"Are we going to have to write stories over the holidays as well?" Orla asked.

"No," Lisa answered. "This is supposed to be a school paper, and we can't very well print news about the school if we aren't even there."

It was an obvious answer, and Orla nodded quietly as Lisa scooted over to the side of Mandy's bed.

"Stewart." Lisa knocked against the floor so no light could slip in under the covers. "We're all leaving to go pass out this week's edition. If you want to come with, you better hurry."

"You can go ahead of me," he told her. "Just make sure it's completely dark in here before you leave. If any light gets under here while I'm trying to get out, all the pictures will be ruined!"

Lisa nodded, though she was sure why she did it. It wasn't as though Stewart could see her. She did, however, make sure ever possible source of light was completely dimmed before she and the other girls made their way down the stairs. In their stocking feet, the girls all did their best to make their footsteps as quiet as possible. All the other girls' dormitories were connected to the same staircase, and they couldn't very well risk being heard, or drawing attention to the consistent night activity on the staircase.

"Freeze!"

Mandy threw her arm out, stopping any members of the staff from going any further down the staircase.

"What the—" Morag began before Mandy began shushing her and waving her arms violently.

The collective eyes peered down in an attempt to see what it was that Mandy saw. Down in the common room, Filch was tacking some sort of parchment up to the bulletin board. Filch was a vile, disgusting man, and all the other students hated him. Unlike everyone else, he was _thriving_ under the tyranny of Umbridge. He had never enjoyed such power in his life, and it made him drunk. In fact, he seemed to skip and sing as he strolled away from the Ravenclaw bulletin board.

Any other time, Lisa might have wondered how Filch had even managed to get into their common room; he certainly never struck Lisa as being clever enough to solve one of their entrance riddles. But now, she was far too curious to know _why_ he had been there in the first place. The man was well known as Umbridge's second toad in command, and whatever it was that he had put up surely had something to do with some new law for the school.

Lisa somehow ended up being the one to take the lead, approaching the bulletin board and her slight nearsightedness finally giving way to words.

"What does it say?" Orla asked, jumping up and down as though she believed she might be able to catch a glimpse over the older girls' shoulders.

Lisa finally did offer an answer, her tone grim. "Professor Umbridge is the new headmistress!"

"What?" Morag pushed her aside to read the parchment for herself. "When did this happen?"

"Five seconds ago, apparently," Lisa replied.

Lisa herself was still having difficulty believing what her own eyes were telling her. She couldn't understand how Umbridge ever could have been allowed into such a great position of authority. After the student body had nearly lost Dumbledore in Lisa's second year, what could have possibly happened that they would be without the man once again?

"You just know she's going to start slicing off people's fingers in detention now, don't you?" Morag remarked cynically.

As long as Professor Dumbledore was still the headmaster, they at least had a miniscule chance of not being expelled if they were ever caught. Thanks to Professor Snape, Lisa knew that the teachers didn't agree that criticizing the Ministry in a student newspaper was an expulsion-worthy offence, and Professor Dumbledore might have kept them from being punished too severely.

Now that he was gone, however…

"Alright, enough gawking at the board!" Mandy reached out to grab at Lisa and Morag's hand, trying to drag them away. "We have to put out this week's edition."

"But…" Lisa began, "what about…"

"You want to get rid of these papers?" Stewart gaped at her.

"No way!" Orla exclaimed. "We have the photos of the Quickslitter injuries published, and I still feel guilty about stealing them from Madam Pomfrey!"

"And I did not go through all those medical tests to have them thrown in the trash!" Stewart offered his input.

Lisa stared out at the members of the staff, seeing how they were all so willing to give everything for what they had worked for. How could she possibly hold herself to a lesser standard?

"Let's go," she breathed softly.


	6. Chapter 6 Leading Questions

**Chapter 6  
Leading Questions**

"Do you care about banking at all?" Lisa asked, holding up a green pamphlet for Mandy and Morag to see.

"No," they replied in unison.

Lisa tossed the paper off to the side and reached for another one without even looking at the title first. "Cart rental in Diagon Alley?"

"No."

Lisa tossed yet another pamphlet aside, but this time, she didn't reach for another one. What difference would it make? The three girls had already gone through at least a dozen career possibilities, and none of them interest any of the girls in the least. Every fifth-year in the Great Hall was currently facing the same dilemma; students were groaning over the more dreadful careers and the prefects were trying to keep order while debating their own futures as well.

The pamphlets having anything to do with working for the Ministry were notably ignored by all the Ravenclaws. This, however, did not make things any easier, as Ministry positions made up most of the career choices before them.

"Funny how they seem to be pushing it on us," Lisa remarked.

Morag smirked. "It might not be that way if they knew how many 'undesirables' they have sitting here."

"I think they would have done it no matter who was sitting here," Mandy said. "It's passive-aggressive propaganda. Tow the party line, or you'll grow up to be penniless and living under the railroad tracks."

Lisa groaned and let one more pamphlet drop back down to the surface of the table. All the three of them had been thinking as of lately had been _The Fourth Estate_; how they were going to print their next issue, what where their next stories going to be, how in Merlin's name was the layout going to work, and thousand more immediate more material things. Material things especially more recently.

Mandy's brother printed their paper for free and out of love for his little sister and the concept of a free press. Getting their actual _supplies_ for the paper, however, was beginning to take more and more creativity. Mandy's brother somehow managed to get free paper from somewhere, but the staff writers all needed pens, parchment, film, potions, and typewriter tape. It was all beginning to add up, and their own personal pocket money was not going to pay for it forever. At the rate they were going, the three girls were going to have to take up jobs just to continue to pay for it all.

Suddenly, Padma appeared at the side of their table, another arm load of career literature in her arms.

"Have any of you found anything?" the prefect asked them.

"No!" the three girls all replied in perfect unison.

Padma sighed, exhausted and tired, running on nothing but coffee and Chocolate Frogs since Easter. She most certainly hadn't been sleeping.

"Well, Professor Flitwick gave me some more materials," she told them, dropping still more pamphlets in front of the Ravenclaws. "Maybe you'll have better luck with these."

"Doubtful," Morag replied, taking a hold of the first pamphlet in the stack: _Goblin-Wizard Relations and You_.

The prefect nodded slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. "I never imagined this would be so difficult," she confessed, taking up a few of the pamphlets for herself. "I can't seem to find anything I can imagine doing for the rest of my life."

Padma groaned out of pure exhaustion and just walked away. She didn't appear to be a hundred percent focus on the task at hand either.

"When are you meeting with Professor Flitwick?" Mandy asked Lisa, distracting attention away from her and Morag's own pitiful-seeming futures.

"Tomorrow afternoon," Lisa told them. "I get to miss History of Magic, at least."

"Lucky you!" Morag exclaimed, not even attempting to hide her clear distain for the subject.

"But just think," Mandy brought up. "Next year, we won't have to go to History of Magic at all!"

House of wit aside, no one enjoyed the horrifically dull class. Lisa almost wondered if Professor Binnes made the class that way intentionally so he would never have to deal with the sixth and seventh-years. What it was that a ghost needed free time for, though, was a question no one knew the answer to.

Letting out a deep sigh first, Lisa reached out to grab the next pamphlet in the stack. "Mermish Real Estate Negotiations?"

"No."

* * *

On the day Lisa was supposed to go for her Career Consultation, Lisa watched the rest of her housemates head down to their History of Magic classroom while she made her way to the Charm's corridor, which was quite notably empty. The door to Professor Flitwick's office was quite possibly the smallest door in all of Hogwarts. Whenever Lisa saw it, she found herself thinking of _Alice in Wonderland_. She often wondered if her Charms teacher had chosen the office himself, or if it was simply given to him because none of the adult members of the staff were able to fit through the door. Even the older students had hard times making it through the door. Lisa's own height left her eye level at least a foot above the doorframe. Kneeling down, she rapt at the door, hearing the sound of people rustling about inside, and even voices.

"Professor?" she called. "It's Lisa Turpin; I'm here for Career Counseling

"The door is open, Miss Tupin," she heard her Head of House yell in his slightly squeaking voice. "Just let yourself in."

Lowly ducking her head, Lisa made her way into the office as though entering a child's playhouse. Through this door, however, was the familiar, polished wood interior of her Head of House, which Lisa had been in several times before.

But she nearly jumped when she finally saw the unexpected presence in the corner: it was Umbridge. She flashed Lisa that poisonous smile of hers and clicked the tip of her quill against her clipboard. Professor Flitwick was nowhere in sight, and a very paranoid part of Lisa's psyche whispered to her that it had all been a set-up. That Umbridge somehow knew about her after-class activities, and that the woman was going to pry whatever she didn't know out of Lisa, one way or another.

Soon enough, though, she was saved from her panicked thoughts by Professor Flitwick finally appearing out from behind a curtain.

"Oh, Miss Turpin!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed in that squeaking voice of his. "I'm sorry I couldn't let you in myself. Please, sit down."

Lisa nodded, her racing heart rate finally beginning to slow. A wooden chair was rested in front the notably tiny desk, set there for Lisa and all the other Ravenclaws coming in for Career Counseling. The moment Lisa sat down, she was immensely uncomfortable, but she knew better than to blame the chair for such feelings.

The tiny professor took a seat at his perfectly scaled desk and folded his hands on top of the surface. "Now, I saw you and your roommate pouring over the career materials the other day, so I suppose I don't even have to ask you if you even know which direction you would like to take."

Lisa tried to smile at her Head of House, but even she could tell it was a labored expression. It would have been hard for anyone to smile with the school's new face of evil staring holes in the back of their head, squatting in the corner like a great pink toad.

"Oh," her Head of House tried to assure her. "Don't you worry; Professor Umbridge is here to watch me. It had nothing to do with your plans after graduation."

It was a convincing lie, and Lisa was grateful for the effort. It would have been so wonderful to believe the school's horrid new headmistress, who, in addition to so many others already, had a vendetta against 'halfbreeds', was here because of Professor Flitwick, who all Ravenclaws knew had a shred of goblin blood. It was the reason he had to stand on tiptoe and crane his neck to speak to even the first-years. But all those weeks of reporting had made Lisa into a very suspicious person; or at the very least, a less naïve one.

"Let's start by taking a look at your classes, shall we?" Professor Flitwick reached for a yellowed folder, which went well over his head the moment it was opened. "I see you take Care of Magical Creatures and have received fairly good marks."

Lisa cringed at the thought of N.E.W.T. Care of Magical Creatures, and from the expression on Professor Flitwick's face as he lowered the folder, she was not the first Ravenclaw to have such feelings. Maybe students in other Houses shared similar ideas of not continuing the class, so Professor Flitwick was trying to encourage his own students to carry on the class; so Professor Hagrid could have at least a few students to teach at the N.E.W.T. level.

_Always count on the studious House to fill that role._

There was nothing wrong with Professor Hagrid as a person; he had a good heart. But also he tended to be a poor understanding of the possible dangers that certain creatures could pose to his students, as well as not having very good instincts for knowing when he was taking the subject a bit too far for their grade level. More or less, nothing had yet to come of it, but in his first year of teaching, Draco Malfoy had been attacked by a Hippogryff, causing a huge sensation throughout the school.

All the same, Lisa had no interest in taking the class any further, worry overriding curiosity as to what Professor Hagrid actually _would_ consider a dangerous creature.

The professor shook his head. "Maybe not then," he finally relented, moving on to her other classes. "Knowledge of Ancient Runes can be quite beneficial in many career paths, and as you may have noticed, there a very few who even attempt to learn the craft of reading it…"

Lisa's attention drifted away from Professor Flitwick's words and attempted to observe the activities of Umbridge, using her peripheral vision to peer at the squat little woman. She was most certainly paying more attention to Lisa than she was to the tiny Charms professor. Lisa felt a series of small cringes all over her body at the most miniscule motions of the headmistress. There had long been rumors circulating of the new headmistress interrogating scores of students, using coercion, Veritaserum, and dozens of other horrifying techniques. In fact, Morag had been the one to publish these rumors in the last edition of _The Fourth Estate_.

That poisonous smile simply taunted Lisa, and every scratch of the quill brought a twitch to her muscles and a quickening to her breath as she contemplated all the tortures Umbridge might be considering towards her; especially if the woman really did believe Lisa had any information to offer about _The Fourth Estate_. Eventually, the constant stress and worry became too much for the girl to take, and she decided she would deliberately provoke the woman herself, just to get it over with.

"What about journalism, Professor?" Lisa asked suddenly.

Lisa heard the very distinct sound of a quill snapping behind her, and it gave her a sick sense of satisfaction. The back wall of Professor Flitwick's office held a very large trophy case that held all his dueling trophies from his younger years. He must have polished the glass every hour, on the hour, for it offered a very clear picture of the entire office and everyone in it. Best of all, Lisa now realized she was allowed a perfect view of Umbridge's every reaction.

In a very unexpected turn, Lisa was now the one holding sway over all the emotions in the room.

"To be honest, I'm not really sure I have very much information to give," Professor Flitwick confessed. "_The Daily Prophet_ did not seem to send us very much career information this year, and given the current political climate…"

The Charms professor's voice trailed off as his eyes briefly shifted over to Umbridge's direction.

"…the journalism profession is not considered a very honorable one."

Now even Professor Flitwick had join in on the effort to fluster and torment the new headmistress. Whether it was intentional or not, however, he was not revealing his intentions to Lisa.

"There are other papers out there besides the _Prophet_," Lisa said, her tone gaining even more confidence still. "I have heard that _The Quibbler's_ last issue achieved record sales. Maybe they need new writers."

"_The Quibbler_ is banned on school premises!" Umbridge barked suddenly, the entire sentence popping out of her like a hiccup. "Educational Decree Twenty-seven!"

"Is it against the decree to talk _about_ it?" Lisa asked, but directing her questions more to the reflection than the woman herself. "This is supposed to be a counseling session devoted to discussing my future, and not discussing every option can only be detrimental to me."

Professor Flitwick nodded, agreeing with her. "Professor Umbridge, you told me you would only be here to quietly observe. I would thank you not to distract my students while you are here."

Lisa watched as the reflection of Umbridge's face slowly began to turn red, doing her best not to show any emtion or reaction. If she could see Umbridge, then it was certain that Umbridge could see her as well. But that did not stop Lisa from enjoying watching the toady woman's fingers twitch, as though she were itching to write down Professor Flitwick's latest comment, but unable to with her only quill so conveniently snapped in two.

"Who knows?" Lisa shrugged. "Maybe I'll even start my own paper."

In the glass, Lisa could see Umbridge's eyebrows shoot up and her mouth twist into a crooked shocked and affronted expression, as though she could not believed the audacity of the two conversing Ravenclaws.

"How very ambitious of you," Lisa's teacher remarked. "It's a good thing we didn't lose you to Slytherin."

"Oh, I could never imagine being in any other House than Ravenclaw, Professor. I have so many dear, close friends there."

Professor Flitwick offered a small smile. "Well, it is always nice to hear House loyalty."

Now both of them seemed to enjoy the mind games being played while Dolores Umbridge sat passively in the corner; simmering, waiting for something, anything, she might be able to pounce on as some proof of conspiracy. Even if the woman wasn't clever enough to take part in the game herself, she could still see that one was indeed being played at her expense.

"Let's take a look at your other classes, shall we?" Professor Flitwick opened a folder and trailed his fingers down a sheet of columns. "Charms; excellent, as always. Transfiguration; fair, a little extra studying, though, and I don't see why you couldn't take it as a N.E.W.T. student. Potions, keep up your current scores and you might be one of the rare few to meet Professor Snape's high expectations for continuing the class."

As her Head of House listed off more of her recent grades, Lisa watched as Umbridge's flesh tones returned to normal and she even began to appear almost calm. Something in Lisa's psyche would not allow this.

"Don't even tell me what my grades for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Lisa suddenly interrupted. "I'm convinced I won't pass that section of my O.W.L.s."

Umbridge's head perked up once again and her cheeks began to turn a very dark shade of pink. _That_ was much better!

"Really, Miss Turpin?" Professor Flitwick asked, puzzled. "Nothing in your grades this year or any other year would lead me to suspect that."

"Thank you, Professor. But sadly, it doesn't matter what I can and can't do in a classroom," Lisa told him, allowing herself to smile a little bit more than she should have. "The O.W.L. exams have very high standards. After all, these tests are supposed to be a measure of my skills as a witch. And, tragic as it may seem, no one in the real world is going to care about how many books I have read or how pretty my handwriting looks on an essay."

That last statement brought Umbridge to a more vivid state of rage that Lisa had even seen the woman. She was convinced the headmistress would soon be snapping her clipboard in half.

"Yes, I'm afraid that is so much a problem with our educational system," Professor Flitwick agreed with her, sighing. "At the very least, Charms is a very practical class, so even if students can't carry it on to the N.E.W.T. level, I can be assured that they will still know enough to use it in their daily lives."

"Oh, I know exactly what you mean, Professor!" Lisa assured him, gaining more and more amusement from the reflection of the humorous reactions behind her. "Theory is all well and good for an essay topic or a discussion, but I've been finding it has very little use when it comes time to pull out your wand."

"Criticizing the Ministry of Magic can have serious consequences, Miss Turpin!" Umbridge shrieked when her anger finally reached critical mass. "I think you'll find seeking employment will be quite difficult if you continue on the path you are choosing!"

"Ministry?" Lisa looked over her shoulder, pretending to be confused. "Professor Flitwick and I were talking about school. I thought that's what I was here for."

Professor Flitwick offered a curt nod in agreement and huffed under his breath. "Professor Umbridge, if you cannot control your outbursts, then, headmistress or not, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"And you!" Umbridge jumped to her feet and pointed an accusing finger at the tiny man. "If you think enabling will go unpunished, you are sorely mistaken! You think I have not noticed you all undermining my authority and, by extension, the authority of the Ministry! You allow your students to run wild, doing as they please, letting them think it is acceptable to snub their noses at government authority! Don't think I haven't noticed! This entire session has offered nothing but more proof!"

"I would think a true headmistress would want to do everything in her power to help her students succeed!" Professor Flitwick snapped before turning his attentions back to Lisa. "Miss Turpin, since it is clear we are not going to have an uninterrupted counseling session, you are excused! Whatever it is you do decide to do with you adult life, I'm sure you will be a great success!"

Pulling herself up out of her chair, Lisa indulged herself in a prideful stride as Umbridge began another screaming fit, the actual words to which Lisa couldn't comprehend. There was a notably light skip in her gait as she continued on through the corridors.


	7. Chapter 7 Syntax

Chapter 7  
Syntax

For as cocky as Lisa felt when she had been leaving Professor Flitwick, when she finally got back to Ravenclaw, she felt absolutely awful. After all the work she and all the other members of the staff had done to keep the paper a secret, she had given Umbridge everything she needed to expel the lot of them! It would only be a matter of time before the woman came sniffing around looking for whatever she could possibly use to shut down the paper and shut _up_ it's staff for good.

Up in the dormitory, while the three fifth-year girls were setting up to work on their next edition, Lisa was still feeling the heavy guilt coming down on her while the other girls were busy at work.

"What on Earth could be keeping Stewart and Orla?" Mandy exclaimed, her hands on her hips. "We _did_ tell them we were having a staff meeting tonight, right?"

"We're having staff meetings near every night now," Morag reminded her. "We should be telling them when they're _not_ supposed to show up for work.

Lisa's fingers drummed over the typewriter keys as she worked her way through the pile of handwritten articles that were going to make up this week's edition of _The Fourth Estate_. She bit at her bottom lip while Mandy and Morag tittered back and forth as to the possible whereabouts of their second-year staff members as Lisa's own mind raced with all the possibilities of how she was responsible for whatever had happened.

Eventually, it all got to be too much, and Lisa had to confess. That only proved to further show how she was capable of doing such a great wrong towards her housemates.

"I have something to tell you two," Lisa finally said, pushing the typewriter away.

The two girls set their work and their materials aside and listened intently.

"I think I've might have told Umbridge that we're the ones printing _The Fourth Estate_," Lisa confessed, looking down and tracing her fingers over the floor. "She was in Professor Flitwick's office went I went for career counseling, and he and I did a lot of sort of side-talking about journalism and newspapers. I guess I was taunting her, and I think she might have figured it out. That I was taunting her about _The Fourth Estate_, I mean."

Lisa's confess went on for several more minutes, accounting every detail of her time in Professor Flitwick's office. What she noticed, however, was that Mandy and Morag didn't appear to be as distraught over the situation as Lisa was. In fact, she even incited a few giggles from her roommates, making her feel just a little bit nervous. Even though her roommates didn't appear to be mad at her over what she had done, Lisa still couldn't help but be concern over the fact that the two girls were not taking the situation very seriously.

"But you didn't actually mention _The Fourth Estate_?" Mandy clarified. "You didn't say that it was you writing it and you didn't mention any of the rest of us?"

Lisa shook her head. "Though I might have really placed an emphasis on the notion that it is a member of Ravenclaw that is responsible for all of this."

"There are lots of people in Ravenclaw," Morag said. "Even if Umbridge does think to look into the Ravenclaws, she doesn't possibly have the manpower in little Inquisitorial Squad to track all of the people in our House. And they'll likely get bored with after a few nights of watching Ravenclaws pour over their books for hours on end.

"We'll just keep a low profile on the writing and investigating, and tell Stewart and Orla to do the same," Morag continued. "And then next week, two Hufflepuffs will be caught together in a broom cupboard, and Umbridge will forget all about you, Lisa."

Lisa nodded with her lips pursed in a grim matter as she reached out to pull her typewriter back towards her. She tried to focus her attention back onto the parchments beside her and the sound of the typewriter keys which became more rhythmic the longer she worked. And slowly, she began to feel the nervous knot in her stomach loosen just a little bit, enough so that getting back to their work on a forbidden project came just a little bit easier.

Suddenly, the dormitory door flew open with a crash. Orla and Stewart would always knock before entering the room, and these day, Padma barely had enough energy to open the door at all, let along slam it with such great power. So all three girls knew in an instant that whatever this was, it could not be anything good. Instinctively, the girls tried to cover the writing materials with their arms and outstretched hands, but, of course, it was no use. Umbridge and several of her favorite pets in the Inquisitorial Squad flanking her on either side were standing in the doorway. Stewart and Orla were held captive in the gripes of one monumentally large sixth-year among the group. It was clear that the so-called headmistress had seen everything she needed to see.

"Well, well, well," she said in that voice of hers, like poisonous honey. "What have we here?"

As though the woman didn't already know what it was she was seeing. Knowing full well that arguing with the evidence would prove futile, Morag dropped her paste brush and her knife to the floor and Mandy set her pile of photographs carefully out of the way of the spilled ink and paste. Lisa left her typewriter just the way it was, not bothering to reset it to type the next line.

* * *

Less than an hour later, the entire staff of _The Fourth Estate_ was waiting in the headmistress' office, which Umbridge had redecorated with all her disgusting photographs of kittens and various shades of pink. Lisa almost found herself giggling at the thought of all of Professor Dumbledore's possible reactions when he finally did return back to Hogwarts and he saw what had been made of his office.

Although, Lisa currently had bigger problems than worrying whether or not her former headmaster would ever be coming back. Right now, she and her housemates had much bigger problems facing them, such as whether or not they would be expelled.

The reason Stewart and Orla hadn't come to meet them at the staff meeting was because they had been detained by the Inquisitorial Squad, who wouldn't let them leave until Umbridge arrived as well. Umbridge authorized the older Slytherin students to search their book bags, and inside Stewart's, they found his camera, which contained all the photographs he had taken for the next issue of _The Fourth Estate_. Inside Orla's, there was an actual copy of _The Fourth Estate_, which Umbridge knew enough about by now to have one of the members of the Inquisitorial Squad hold it while she examined it from afar. From there, the headmistress and the students made a mission to track down each all of the other Ravenclaws in an attempt to find anyone else who might have any other such damning evidence on their person. That, of course, led them straight up to the Ravenclaw tower and into the fifth-year girls' dormitory, where Umbridge had actually caught them in the middle of the paper's production.

While they waited, the various members of the newspaper's staff took up their own little habits. Morag had taken a pack of Droobles gum and began a pattern of blowing bubbles and cracking the gum loudly. Mandy was using her hands to tap out song rhythms onto the top of her legs, working her way through the latest Weird Sisters album. And Lisa, of course, had been detailing every object that Umbridge must have brought into the office and speculating as to what Dumbledore's reaction would be when he came back and found it.

Stewart and Orla, on the other hand, were dealing with the passing time in a far less positive way. Poor little Orla had been reduced to a weeping puddle, clinging to Stewart's shoulder. It was clear that Stewart was doing his very best to stay brave and macho in front of his crush, but he was just barely on the side of tears. Orla rubbed her face back and forth over Stewarts robes, muttering about what her parents would do to her once they learned she had been expelled, how she would never be able to get into another Wizarding school, and that she would grow up to be one of those people who lived in boxes under bridges. Stewart nodded along with every possibility Orla brought up, and with each of them, he began to shake a little more distinctly.

Lisa watched the two second-years, and then her gaze shifted back to her roommates. It was clear that whatever punishment was going to be doled out her, Lisa, Mandy, and Morag would be much better able to deal with it. They were older, so it was a perfectly natural assumption. But Orla and Stewart were both still so young; the world was so much more black and white to them. Either they were going to be let off without punishment, or they would be disciplined for speaking out against the Ministry: expulsion, a detention session with the Quickslitter Quill; it would all be equally devastating to them. They couldn't be allowed to face Umbridge's wrath in the slightest, and there was only one way to make it happen.

"Everybody listen!" Lisa leaned in close, urging her housemates to crouch in close. "Mandy, Morag, and I, we wrote the paper all by ourselves."

Orla and Stewart quit their sobbing long enough to flash an expression of insult. They couldn't quite grasp what Lisa was trying to say just yet, and all they heard was the insult that they had done nothing all these weeks to help in the publishing of _The Fourth Estate_.

Lisa explained further, bringing Mandy and Morag further in on the conversation. "The three of us would never trust mere second-years with such an important job."

Mandy and Morag finally understood what Lisa was trying to say, and they nodded in silent agreement. Lisa turned to Orla and Stewart. "You two have absolutely no business with any of the fifth-years in Ravenclaw. You are not friends with any of the fifth-years, you do not talk to any of the fifth-years, and you certainly didn't work with any of them on any secret newspaper. Do you understand?"

Despite the fact that they were shaking heavily, the two second-years still managed to nod. Finally, they were beginning to understand, and Lisa even thought she could see a small, thankful smile on Orla's lips as she wiped at her eyes with her sleeve.

The plan was made just in time, because it was at that moment that Umbridge waddled out of a doorway at the top of a staircase, staring down at the five Ravenclaws almost like a queen regarding her serfs, ready to begin the interrogations.

"Miss Quirke," she called out in that disgustingly sweet tone of hers, "would come inside for a moment? I would like to ask you some questions."

Slowly, Orla rose to her feet, smoothing out the wrinkles in her robes, and making her way stiffly to the door, like a prisoner being lead to the firing squad. The other four all moved to hold themselves stiffly and with dignity, in the matter of those prisoners who would be next.

* * *

Later, after everyone on _The Fourth Estate_ staff had been put through their separate interviews, the three Ravenclaw fifth-years sat alone in the headmistress' pink, kitten-covered private office. Morag's shoes were gone, as she had thrown at the loudest, most annoying kitten paintings in an attempt to get it to shut up. They were already getting expelled; what more trouble could they get into?

There was very little to debate about at this point. When Lisa had been asked outright by Umbridge if she had anything to do with the illegal underground newspaper known as _The Fourth Estate_, she saw no reason to drag it out. "Yes," she told the woman right away. "I wrote it, and I am proud of it."

_That_ had certainly not been what the woman had been expecting. It was almost worth it just to see Umbridge's mouth drop open and hang there as though she were catching flies. Lisa was also sure she was the only one who got to see this reaction, as Mandy and Morag gave, more or less, the exact same answer in the exact same fashion.

No one gave any doubt that Orla and Stewart had nothing to do with the paper's production. With three willing confessions, they didn't have reason to.

Umbridge sat in front of them, at a bleached wood desk, stirring spoonful after spoonful of sugar into her teacup. She had already offered the girls tea, but each of them had quite adamantly refused. If she had it in her power to expel them, Lisa was fairly sure that Umbridge wouldn't see the need to poison them as well, but none of the girls were willing to take a chance on that.

The girls had been sitting before Umbridge for nearly ten minutes, but aside from offering the girls tea, she had yet to say anything to them. Though she did seem to take great pleasure in staring at the three girls just the way one of her kittens would stare at a cornered mouse. The tiny smile spread over her lips aided in creating this comparison as well.

"Did you owl our parents?" Mandy asked suddenly.

Umbridge took a thoughtful sip of her tea before answering. "Oh, I don't believe that needs to be addressed right away."

"Don't we have the right to have our parents or guardians present if we are charged with crimes against the Ministry?" Morag asked snidely. It would seem that knowing she was truly at the lowest point she could possibly be at was bringing out her snarky nature even more than usual.

"Let's discuss the matter at hand, and _then_ we will consider what needs to be done in terms of contacting your parents." Umbridge stirred yet another spoonful of sugar into her tea. _How much could she possibly have needed?_ "And for the record, you are here because you willfully broke school rules, not for committing any sort of crime against the Ministry of Magic."

Morag crossed her legs and offered a mirror image of Umbridge's smile. "Well, we'll just have to agree to disagree on that, won't we?" she replied, perfectly imitating the headmistress' sugary tone.

The woman's smile faltered for just a moment before she quickly regained her composure and got back to her prepared speech.

"Let me see if I understand what has been happening," she said. "You three all willingly engaged in an unapproved afterschool activity in writing this paper?"

"That's right," Lisa answered.

"Even though you knew such an activity was banned by Educational Degree?"

"We were aware of it," Mandy admitted.

Umbridge laced her fingers together so that her horribly gaudy rings were showed off. "Why did you do it?"

"Does it matter why?" Morag begged the question. "Will you consider not expelling us if we have a good reason?"

"Most likely not," Umbridge admitted, still smiling as she said so. "However, I would think you would want your records to reflect that you didn't just do all this for the mere sake of breaking rules."

"We didn't agree with certain school and Ministry policies," Lisa finally told the woman in an attempt to humor her. "We decided to put our thought to paper and see if anyone else in the school agreed with us.

"Clearly, they did, if our little paper is turning out to be such a big deal," Mandy finished for her, twirling a strand of her mousy hair through her fingers. "It wouldn't have become such a production if the students were just using the editions to line their owl cages."

"How popular your little paper may or may not allegedly be is beside the point," Umbridge suddenly lectured harshly. "The mere papers _existence_ is a violation of school rules, and the content that you chose to publish certainly did not help your case."

"We published no lies!" Lisa insisted quite vehemently. No matter what happened to them or what was said about the three girls after they were gone from the school, she wanted that point to be made very clear.

"You certainly may assert that point," Umbridge replied in a way that Lisa couldn't tell whether or not the headmistress though she was lying or just refused to acknowledge any negative press about the Ministry. "The Ministry has been doing everything in its power to provide you children with a proper education and to protect you from danger. But you three have not only shunned that gift, but also done everything in your power to bring the rest of the school down with you. I can't imagine a more disgusting crime that I could face under this post."

None of the girls, however, seemed to be phased by these harsh words. They maintained their tall and proud composure as they sat up in their chairs. "In certain cultures, the press is considered to be a forum for the truth, completely free from government terrene," Mandy commented in an offhand sort of way. "The British culture used to be one of them."

Mandy then looked the headmistress square in the face. "Whatever happened to that?"

The woman didn't have a word to say in response to that. Her short, sausage-like fingers drummed against the surface of the desk and behind her, the kitchen pictures purred and licked themselves.

"So how long until we are expelled?" Morag asked in an effort to resume the conversation once again. "Can we owl our parents, or are you just going to throw us out on our—"

"Miss MacDougal!" Umbridge exclaimed. But Morag just shrugged her shoulders and leaned back in her chair, smirking up at the ceiling.

"I was _hoping_ we might have a discussion like _civilized_ people," Umbridge stressed. "Maybe you could tell me a bit more about how you managed keep such an advanced paper going for so long? Maybe a bit about some of the things you _didn't_ include in your articles?"

The three girls sat, puzzled at what their headmistress could possibly be inferring at.

"We didn't keep any secrets in our writing," Lisa asserted. "What you see is what we know."

But the woman didn't seem convinced.

"No little details you chose not to publish?" she probed. "Maybe because you couldn't prove it to be true, or you just couldn't make a good story out of it?"

Mandy raised an eyebrow. "What are you getting at, Professor?"

"I know what this is!" Morag shouted suddenly before Umbridge could offer any answer of her own. "She wants us to trade information for our own safety. If we have anything she wants, she won't expel us!"

"Is that true?"

"The Ministry recognizes that while the publishing of your paper clearly went against several Educational Decrees, but it also understands that you could possibly have information prudent to the Minister of Magic, and that it may very well be in our best interest to offer you some sort of compromise in exchange for something we want," she told the girls. "Even Azkaban inmates get time off for good behavior."

She giggled slightly at the end of this sentence, but she was alone in this. The three girls all shot deathly glares in her direction, and it did seem to rattle the woman just a bit.

"We did not keep anything we learned from our readers," Lisa finally said stoically. "What you see is what is there. And even if we did keep anything of the pages, you must be stark raving mad to think we would trade information with _you_ for any sort of leniency."

"Administrations have risen and fallen all through history," Morag answered, leaning back casually and stretching her arms. "I, for one, have no problem with waiting."

"So the three of you all agree on your course of action?" she asked them. "There will be no changing your minds?"

"No," the three girls replied in unison, though notably less enthusiastic than they had spoken before.

"Very well, then." Umbridge took out a rather official looking piece of parchment, as well as a quill. "In violation of Educational Decree, I, as headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, hereby expel students Mandy Brocklehurst, Morag MacDougal, and Lisa Turpin."

She finished scrawling on the paper with a final flourish. "I am very disappointed in the three of you."

At this point, Lisa really couldn't have cared less about what Dolores Umbridge thought of her personally, but she and her roommates all did their best to appear dejected and ashamed.

"I will be sending letters to your families straight away," she said in a resigned sort of way as she stood to her feet. "They should be here to bring you home by morning. You may spend your last night at Hogwarts in your dormitory, though I strongly advise you _against_ bragging of your debauchery to the rest of the student body. Anyone caught in possession of _The Fourth Estate_ or is caught talking about or the three of you, will face expulsion as well. And I am certain you wouldn't want any of your housemates to face such a horrible fate, especially with your strong sense of House loyalty."

She said this last part in a rather snide manner, taunting Lisa with the same words that she had taunted the woman with earlier that afternoon. "You all may leave now."

The three Ravenclaws all stood to their feet and made their way out of the office and all the way to the Ravenclaw tower. For once, they did not have a word to say to one another. Every word that had needed to be said between the three of them had already been said.


	8. Chapter 8 Advocacy

Chapter 8  
Advocacy

"Commalong in Australia and Queen's Cay in the Bahamas would be possible choices. They are both English-speaking schools," Lisa's dad read off a list. "Then there is also one English-speaking school in Canada and the four schools in the States."

"I would go with the United States," her Uncle Tom suggested. "Wizards there observe the Muggle constitution, and freedom of the press is the first thing they're promised."

Lisa laughed as she leaned over to read over the list of American schools. It had been a month since her expulsion from Hogwarts. After she and her housemates' meeting with Umbridge that had led to their expulsions, the girls had packed up their trucks, and had woken up the next morning to go back to the headmistress' office to wait for their parents to come and get them.

The girls had waited until Padma and all the other Ravenclaws had left for their first classes before gathering up the last of their possessions in their trunks and beginning the solemn march through the empty corridors. Umbridge had been waiting for them at the door of her office, using all the restraint she had to keep from jumping up and down and giggling like a little girl watching another child being scolded. The staff of _The Fourth Estate_ did their best to keep from giving the woman any further sense of satisfaction, though once or twice, Lisa and Mandy had to keep Morag from trying.

They had waited barely ten minutes before their parents were allowed in and attempted to collect their daughters without any sort of ceremony. There were a great many looks of sadness and loss. But what surprised Lisa the most was that her parents hadn't appear the least bit angry with her; neither did Mandy or Morag's parents. Not that Umbridge hadn't done her best to rile up emotions when the girls were collected. At every turn, she had attempted to remind the parents that their daughters were never going to be allowed to come back to Hogwarts, they would not be able to take their O.W.L.s, and even if they did manage to get into schools in other countries, they would likely never find work in Britain, just because their educational degree was 'not British'.

What their parents all seemed most interested in was getting their daughters out of the school as quickly as possible without exchanging any words with the headmistress.

Even after, the Turpins had arrived home, Lisa's mother and father didn't say a word to her. They had eaten dinner staring into their plates and Lisa went to bed in her old room after reading her little cousin several bedtime stories. In many ways, it just seemed as though the summer holidays had come early. But the past editions of _The Fourth Estate_ lining the bottom of her trunk that served as Lisa's own bedtime reading stopped that feeling from taking over completely. Lisa was determined to keep herself reminded of why she was not sleeping at Hogwarts that night.

And that was the way it passed for weeks. It had only been a few days ago when her parents had started bringing home information about wizarding schools But none of them even mentioned the word 'Hogwarts,' as though they wanted nothing more than to forget Lisa had ever even attended school there. In a way, the mad desire to forget about Hogwarts made sense to Lisa. If she never attended Hogwarts, then she was never expelled from Hogwarts either.

Lisa hadn't spoken to her former roommates aside from letters they sent one another fairly regularly. Now that they had no classes and nothing to study, they had very little else to do with their time. Morag seemed intent on attending school in the Bahamas come autumn, and she was determined to get Lisa and Mandy to join her there. And Lisa, truth be told, was strongly considering it. A sun-filled winter will attending school on the beach sounded absolutely lovely, especially given all the bad memories here in Britain. That and all the cold and the rain; _that_ would be nice to leave behind as well.

Though aside from this school planning, and the letters she received from Mandy and Morag Lisa found that her life had become really very boring. She would wake up, have breakfast with her family, then she would have the house to herself for the next eight hours of the day and very little to occupy herself with. There was really no point in studying because if she would be starting at a new school, she would be given an entirely new set of textbooks to learn from, so studying her old ones would just be a waste of time.

When Lisa had been younger, she had felt that the worst fate that could possibly befall her would be to be expelled from Hogwarts, never allowed to return. Now that it had actually happened, though, she couldn't help but feel slightly indifferent to the whole thing.

More time passed. The dates of the O.W.L. exams came and went, taking _The Fourth Estate_ staff past the point of no return. She couldn't help but feel slight pains whenever she did see a newspaper. Though, it was almost impossible to ignore it lately, given the headlines that had been splattered all over the _Prophet_ as of late.

Weeks after her leaving Hogwarts, after the O.W.L.s had come and gone, and after Lisa knew for certain she would be in another country come September, a very disturbing story began flashing over the headlines of the _Daily Prophet: **YOU-KNOW-WHO RETURNS**_.

The stories terrified Lisa's parents and Uncle Tom, who were all old enough to remember the horror of the Dark Lord and how he had terrorized the wizarding world. They knew better than anyone else what lay ahead for British civilization now. Lisa knew she should be scared, but she just couldn't force herself to feel the fear she knew she should be feeling.

It might have been because of those headlines, that the wizarding world now knew that Cornelius Fudge was wrong and that Harry Potter was right. Headlines over the next few weeks called for Fudge's resignation, and, although none of the papers said so specifically, Umbridge's removal from any sort of power.

When Lisa read these stories, she could help but feel a small sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, with the system that had expelled them gone, she and her roommates might be allowed to come back to Hogwarts. She kept these hopes, even though she knew that even if they were let back into Hogwarts, their chance to take their O.W.L.s for the year was long since gone. Even if they were allowed back into Hogwarts, they would no doubt have to repeat their fifth year, even though their grades were nowhere near poor enough to merit such a disgrace.

She did find herself wondering about how little Stewart and Orla were coping with these stories and all the chaos that must have been going on at Hogwarts because of them.

Though there was a part of Lisa's mind that said she wouldn't mind the embarrassment and the boredom of repeating her fifth year as long as she could go back to Hogwarts and just have everything go back to the way it was before all this mess had turned her life upside down.

But then, of course, she would just go back to studying information about schools on tropical islands, dense mountains, and isolated open meadows, knowing once autumn came, she would find herself learning magic at one of these places instead.

* * *

"LISA!" she suddenly heard a very loud voice scream. "GET UP! GET UP! GET UP!"

Lisa scrambled as hard as she could to escape from her tangled sheets, but she could still feel tiny little feet jumping on her legs, as well as her stomach and her back. And all her shrieking did nothing to deter the activity until she manage to kick the invader off her bed, signaled by the loud thud she heard at her side.

When Lisa finally managed to look up from the comfort of her pillow, she could see her little cousin, Jacob, Uncle Tom's boy, flat on his back on the floor, pretending to be more hurt than he clearly was. Lisa snorted and shook her head at the boy, showing him that she was _not_ about to fall for it.

When Uncle Tom had moved into Lisa's home after his wife, Lisa's Aunt Wendy, died, Lisa's now five-year-old cousin, Jacob, had along with him. Lisa had always loved the little boy, but before, her cousin's visits were always in small doses. Once he was living with the Turpins full-time…well, Lisa was very thankful for the sanctuary that Hogwarts offered.

Lisa's sheltered life as an only child soon came crashing down once she began sharing her domain with the little boy. If something wasn't locked, protected with a password, or sealed down, Jacob was going to get into it. For the most part, Lisa felt that she had adapted to the little boy living in her home, and she even felt secure in leaving her possession at home while she had been away at Hogwarts.

But right now, at this moment in time, Lisa found herself much more focused on the fact that the little boy was interrupting her beauty sleep.

"What?" she turned to ask him. One of the only benefits of being expelled from school was getting to sleep in, and Lisa was ready to attack anyone intent on taking that away from her.

Little Jacob scrambled to his feet, slipping on his sticking feet, eyes wide from trying to hold in what had to be the most amazing news.

"Your teacher, Professor Flitwick is downstairs talking with Uncle Ben and Aunt Jennifer!" he exclaimed. "The scary teacher, Professor Snape, is there too!"

It was that statement that brought Lisa snapping up into attention. Uncle Ben and Aunt Jennifer were Lisa's parents, and Lisa couldn't even begin to imagine what her teachers could be doing talking to them, seeing as she was no longer one of their students. In fact, upon first hearing this, Lisa had to keep from believing this just for the sake of her own sanity. To believe that what her cousin was saying was true was to destroy the foundation upon which everything she knew and believed in had been built.

Despite no longer being a Hogwarts student, however, her natural Ravenclaw curiosity was still perfectly intact. It took mere seconds for her to throw the covers off and spring to the floor, sprinting for the doorway.

"Get dressed first!"

Lisa stopped herself just short of the doorframe, her cheeks beginning to tint red. She could not believe she had almost let her teacher see her in her pajamas.

Once Lisa considered herself _properly_ dressed, she made her way out the door with Jacob tailing at her heels and then racing ahead of her to the beginning of the steps downstairs. In a perfect mimic of her cousin, Lisa scooted down the staircase, step by step, until she was just barely able to peek through the banister. Sure enough, there in the living room, chatting with her parents were Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick, though the Ravenclaw Head of House had to be propped up by several thick books just to be given a suitable line of vision over the coffee table.

Lisa rubbed at her eyes again and again, but the picture in front of her eyes never changed: her teachers were in her house, Professor Snape sipping tea out of her mother's violet-laced teacups! Lisa suddenly thought back to her earlier years when she thought she would die of laughter if she ever saw the surly professor drinking out of such a dainty-looking cup. But instead now, Lisa just felt confused and slightly disturbed.

"Miss Turpin," the Potions professor suddenly said without looking up, "for as lovely a hostess as your mother is, Professor Flitwick and I really did come here to see you. I suggest you come down here."

Startled, Lisa jumped back, bumping into her cousin, Jacob, who was staring aghast at what had just happened. "Wow! You _weren't_ lying about him!"

Not knowing what else to do, Lisa stood to her feet, leaving her cousin alone with his astonishment, and made her way down the stairs with as much dignity as possible after what had just happened. Lisa parents both got up and left the room, as though to give their daughter privacy to talk to her teachers, but out of the corner of her eye, Lisa could clearly see both her mother and her father lurking from behind the kitchen doorframe. Lisa took a very stiff seat in the armchair opposite her teachers and cleared her throat before attempting to speak.

"Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape," she said in as respectful a tone as she could manage while in her state of surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Her two former teachers appeared to be almost as uneasy as Lisa was. There was just something so unnatural about seeing her teachers in her home, and they seemed to believe that just as much a Lisa did. But all the same, she was desperate to know what they were doing here in the first place.

"I'm sure you have learned Dolores Umbridge is no longer a member of the Hogwarts teaching staff, and Cornelius Fudge is stepping down as Ministry of Magic."

Truthfully, she hadn't been paying nearly as much attention to the British news as she had before, mostly because she was quite certain that she would not be spending most of the year _in_ Britain for much longer. She knew that the wizarding world had reached the consensus that the You-Know-Who had indeed returned, but that was more or less the extent of her knowledge.

"Then you must be aware of what has become of her school policies."

Truthfully, Lisa was not aware of this, so she waited to be told.

"They have been disbanded, of course," Professor Snape said in a condescending sort of way. "Every decision that woman made at her post."

Professor Snape refilled his teacup. "As you can imagine, the expulsion cases of you and your housemates come under that discretion."

Lisa could feel her eyes growing wide.

Professor Flitwick took his turn to speak. "There is a completely unanimous verdict that were in not for the sudden new policies Professor Umbridge implemented, the paper you and your housemate chose to publish would hardly have been of interest to the facility. It is likely that it wouldn't have even existed if it weren't for Dolores Umbridge."

Now Lisa's heart was starting to beat faster and it was taking all her restraint to keep from jumping up and down like an over-excited five-year-old.

"As such," the tiny Charms professor finished, "we have decided that Professor Umbridge's decision to expel you was, at the very least, highly unjust. As such, the staff and the school governors have decided it would be in the best interests of everyone for you, Miss MacDougal, and Miss Brocklehurst to return to Hogwarts this coming autumn."

This time, Lisa did leap up to her feet, although she was able to suppress a squeal of delight. After all the mental preparation she had done in these past beeks, getting herself ready for the fact that she would not be attending Hogwarts next term, and would never be back there again. To hear that all that was no longer true…, it was as though hearing that the people who wrote the calendar had decided Christmas would now come five times of year.

Then, a familiar and dreaded thought came in Lisa's mind. "What about our O.W.L.s?" she spoke of a sudden snag in the offer. "Will we have to repeat our fifth year?"

Professor Flitwick took a thoughtful bite of his biscuit. "Well, that hardly seems fair," he said. "You have all been such diligent students in the past, and I don't see why you should be punished because of one ruling from an unjust regime."

Professor Snape elaborated further. "The teachers have all had a meeting with the Professor Dumbledore, and we have come to a decision," he told Lisa as he help himself to a _pink_ flower-shaped biscuit. "In order to take your N.E.W.T. level classes, all you will need is the approval of the professors who are teaching the class."

Before taking a bite, though, he made sure to point an accusing finger Lisa's way. "But do not, believe that this leeway will give you a pass on any lackluster effort in terms of your studies!"

"I understand perfectly, sir," Lisa acknowledged. At this point, Lisa was so excited, she was willing to do just about anything to be going back to Hogwarts. She would let Professor Snape have tea in her house and serve him pink biscuits until the man burst.

"And Miss Turpin," the Potions professor added after taking a bite of the biscuit, "upon returning to Hogwarts, you will also be expected to comb your hair before coming to class."

Lisa's hand drifted subconsciously up to her hair, causing her to shudder when she felt the knotted locks. "That's fair," she relented, looking down to hide her blushing cheeks.

Slowly beginning to step backwards, Lisa made her way for the staircase and was miraculously able to make her way to her bedroom without ever needing to look over her shoulder. The last thing her mind could remember seeing before she shut the door were her two professors drinking tea off her mother's violet china and, for whatever reason, eating pink biscuits.

* * *

August came like so many years before, and the Turpin family went to Diagon Alley so that Lisa could get her school supplies. And thanks to a late growth spurt, a new set of school robes were in order as well. Shopping for textbooks felt a bit odd, seeing as Lisa didn't share the problem many of her classmates had in worrying about having or not having the grades to make it into the class. She even felt confident in buying _Advanced Potion-Making_.

On the platform at Kings Cross, it only took a few moments for Lisa to spot Mandy and Morag, hanging off one another as though they were best friends, a scene that Lisa knew she never would have seen last year.

"Lisa!" Morag exclaimed, rushing over and attacking her housemate in a tackling hug. Were it not for the brick wall so conveniently located just behind her, Lisa was convinced she would have fallen over, although the wall did cause a rather nasty bump on the back of her head.

Neither girl spoke a word about the paper or what had happened because of it, or how it was what had brought them so close together. They didn't even breathe a word of it when Stewart and Orla joined in with the pointless chattering. All their words seemed like the same shallow, blathering nonsense that Lisa would have expected coming into Hogwarts the year before. But now, it was all just too strange for her.

Then, it suddenly occurred to Lisa that maybe they didn't want to remember. They didn't seem to want to remember either. As exciting as publishing the paper had been at the time, to remember what they had done would have been to also remember all the terrible things that had gone along with it. It would be to remember the up-all-nights, the constant looking over their shoulders, and always expecting the world to come crashing down on their heads and just waiting for it to happen.

In an odd way, it all made perfect sense. Not that Lisa agreed with it, but she could admit that it made sense.

They all stuffed themselves into the same compartment, ignoring the looks of other students who saw N.E.W.T. students associated with soon-to-be third-years and the insanity of everyone trying to fit into the same car. It was rather cramped with everyone in the one compartment, but no one complained. They just all laughed, chatted, and joked together as though there had never been a time when it hadn't been this way.

Lisa turned her head to look out the window and sighed thoughtfully. She wasn't ready to forget just yet.


	9. Epilogue Wrapup

Epilogue  
Wrap-up

"Orla, have you finished the layout for page three yet?"

"Nearly!"

In a scene almost identical to the one that had played out two years before, the five members of _The Fourth Estate_ were sitting in a circle on the floor of what were now the seventh-year girls' dormitories surrounded quill pots and parchment scraps, a stack of newsprint transfigured from the school toilet paper set off to the side to be sent to Mandy brother to settle the printing cost. Padma, once again, was completely absent from the room. There was still not a person among the staff who had any idea what she was doing almost every night while they were at work.

There was a great deal of things about the paper that had changed since it had been started up again at the beginning of the school year. There was certainly no shortage of stories to write about, the first issue detailing an exposé on all change in the Hogwarts teaching staff. Professor Burbage, the Muggle Studies professor had completely disappeared and the student body had never been given a very satisfactory explanation as to what had happened to her. This turned out to be a very big story, as Muggle Studies was now a mandatory class for all Hogwarts students, though the way it was currently being taught by Alecto Carrow made Lisa long for the old days of Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Umbridge, as much as it pained her to admit. The main focus of the class seemed to be to indoctrinate the students with the belief that Muggles were a filthy, sub-human race undeserving of any form of mercy or pity.

None of the Ravenclaws dared play the Question Game anymore. The new school policy towards the Dark Arts and Unforgivable Curses had a great deal to do with that.

Amycus Carrow, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts, had more or less dropped the first three words in the class title and now the N.E.W.T.-level curriculum consisted mainly of the students torturing one another. Anyone who refused was themselves subjected to the Cruciatus Curse. All a person really could do in this new environment was keep their heads as low as possible and try to attract as little attention as possible.

At least until classes ended and _The Fourth Estate_ staff went to work under the cover of darkness.

Had Lisa been a much more naïve person, she might have felt slightly safer knowing that Professor Snape was now the headmaster, were it not that it confirmed what had always been a long-standing rumor and belief among the student body: Snape's loyalties were first and foremost to You-Know-Who. He might have done what little he could to keep _The Fourth Estate_ safe from the wrath of the Ministry of Magic, but there was no chance of him sticking his neck out for them now that one of the world's most notorious wizards was running the country.

All the same, Mandy, Morag, Stewart, and Orla, who to this day had no knowledge of the secret understanding between Lisa and Snape, held no hesitation about starting up _The Fourth Estate_ under this new regime.

Of course, the Ravenclaws had to become greatly more diligent in keeping from getting caught. There was no more leaving the paper out so openly has they had been in Lisa's fifth-year, with distribution now restricted to just a few well hidden hot-spots in the school. Somehow they were found, though no one among the newspaper staff had any idea of how.

The Spontaneous Combustion Hex was still in place, in addition to a biting hex, an itching hex, and a mucus-spewing hex. None of them were very advanced hexes, but hopefully they were numerous enough that no one who they were marked for would even dare pick it up.

And for those who thought they were being clever through the use of Levitation spells were in for an especially nasty surprise…

In an odd sort of way, they were also fortunate in that there was no shortage of human suffering within the school these days, which made for plenty of source material. Lisa felt horrible when she first had this thought, but Mandy assured her that this was the case with all journalists. Her mother had told her this many times before, saying it was a sort of mixed blessing that came with being a reporter.

The incoming first year class was completely devoid of Muggle-born students, and though there was no real proof that it had anything to do with the school's new administration, that did not stop it from becoming the second cover story of _The Fourth Estate_. Of course, after this had happened, even though the Carrows and some of their more cooperating Slytherins had no real proof of the paper's existence, that did not stop them from issuing an official statement as to what would happen to those who were caught writing it. Needless to say, it was not pleasant and something that made everything Umbridge had ever brought on them seem like a sweet dream.

"Everybody all set?" Lisa asked the staff, quickly sneaking ones last issue underneath her blouse and on wrapping more papers around her right thigh.

The rest of the staff all stood to their feet, a few taking the chance to stuff a few extra issues underneath their clothes. Lisa sidestepped her way to the doorway that led from the Ravenclaw common room down into the school corridors. Outside, there was complete and utter silence, but even that was no indication of safety.

"Alright then." Lisa poked her head out into the corridor, a newly acquired reflex after nearly being caught a few too many times. "Annnnd…run!"

On that command, the five Ravenclaws sped off in all different directions, not even looking over their shoulders for fear that it would cost them precious seconds. Printing this paper was no longer just the simple game they had enjoyed two years ago when even the worse of consequences seemed horribly light compared to what could happen to them now were any one of them caught. Mandy had told the other Ravenclaw stories of people even today who were tortured and killed for printing true news stories, and Lisa doubted that their fate would be any different. All of their lives were on the line by doing what they were doing, and it left Lisa heart pounding much too fast, in an almost constant, almost painful rate.

And Lisa Turpin wouldn't have had it any other way.


End file.
